


Crimson Burst Angel

by Zerrat



Category: Bakuretsu Tenshi | Burst Angel
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, Sci-Fi, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-06-05
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 62,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerrat/pseuds/Zerrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things change a lot in five years, but not always for the better. Still caught up in her grief and anger, Meg seeks to destroy the hidden remains of RAPT in an attempt to avenge her fallen partner. Sei battles shadowy opposition from within her organization, but the unseen enemies threaten to pull her under before she can act, while Amy tries desperately to recapture the lost happiness of years ago. At the centre of the chaos and subterfuge is Jo, and the power RAPT seeks to draw from her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From The Flames

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer – ** All characters and dialogue present in the anime and manga _Burst Angel_ and _Burst Angel: Infinity_ are registered trademarks and copyright of Funimation and studio Gonzo.
> 
> **A/N:** Set after the 3-minute epilogue of the Burst Angel OVA and 5 years after the end of the anime. Rating may increase in later chapters. Contains spoilers for the epilogue.

The sun was setting as she streaked down the highway, the thrum of the motorcycle's engine soothing any of her latent nerves, any fear she may have still felt… She was calm. The wind buffeted her hair around as she swerved around a car, going faster and faster, feeling the thrill of being alive – of danger, of the chase – echoing through her entire body.

Then she spotted her target. A non-descript pickup truck motoring down the highway, dodging in and out of the light traffic as they tried to escape her watchful eyes.

She smirked, a bare quirking of her lips before it was replaced by a look of seriousness.

_No chance. _Unconsciously, she raised her wrist and yelled into the comm. link strapped to it,

"Hey, Amy, I've got him in my sights. What's news?" Her voice was nearly snatched away the powerful wind.

The comm. was silent for a short moment, even the crackling of bad reception being stolen by the gusts. Then it glowed.

"_There are constructions going on up ahead of you, two miles away now. I'm trying to force a complete stop of traffic… __there!__" _Amy's voice sounded pleased with herself as she announced what she had done. "_All traffic locked up! Those assholes will have to stop now, and then __WHAM__!" _There was a cackle from the other end.

A pair of clear blue eyes narrowed in deep thought. There was an easy way to do this, and of course, the hard way.

"_Be careful, Meg, Bai-Lan requires those men taken alive."_ A deeper, feminine voice replaced Amy's chipper commentary. Sei's way; the hard way.

She sighed. "Got it, Sei…" Meg needed a challenge today, anyway… She'd been starting to get jittery for a while. Tokyo sure had calmed down these past five years.

"_I know you'll follow your orders to the letter, Meg." _

"Sarcasm is so not appreciated." Meg swerved around an orange van, squinting as the sun bounced off the mirrors and into her eyes. That white pickup was entirely too erratic to be predicted. Meg smirked again and accelerated, quickly overtaking the bus in front of her and reaching back for the modified Desert Eagles strapped in their holsters. She grabbed the left one, the motor roaring beneath her and snarled.

Horns blared up ahead, wheels screeched, and Meg drew level with the white van. The man in the driver's side seat glanced out the window and screamed in terror as he spotted her. She could almost imagine what he was screaming…

"_**OH JESUS, IT'S HER!" **_

_Damn right, arseholes, now pull over before I put a bullet in your sorry faces. _Meg shrugged, taking aim. The fading sunlight gleamed off the muzzle of her modified Desert Eagle. Time seemed to slow to a stop as Meg tried to remember what it was that Sei had wanted her to do.

She smirked.

_Oh, that's right, _ _ alive _ _. _

She lowered her aim from her target's temples and pulled the trigger. The glass windows shattered, the bullet ploughing straight through and out the passenger side. She could hear the men screaming, the tires screeching they tried to get control back over the white pickup. Meg's smirk grew as she cast her eyes up ahead, and she gave a sly salute to the two men she was pursuing. She could see the confusion in their faces as she dropped back, giving an amused shrug.

They were still staring at her as they slammed right into the back of a jeep. Ahead of them stretched at least a mile of backed up traffic…

"Nice going, Amy!" Meg told the hacker, revving the engine before screeching off towards the white pickup.

"_It was too easy,_" Amy told her with an airy tone, "_Just get the bad-guys so we can eat already."_

Meg nodded an affirmative, screeching to a halt by the partially ruined pickup.

_Finally, to put this juvenile chase to an end._

There were horns blaring behind her as more traffic stopped, and an angry voice from inside the jeep was starting to yell. Meg shrugged, turned off the engine and climbed off the bike. Too easy. She didn't understand why the authorities were having such a hard time with idiots like these –

The run sun gleaming off the metallic barrel of the handgun flashed in her eyes, and Meg threw herself backwards. Gunshots tore through the air, her targets screaming in defiance as they moved her down. She could hear the shots ricocheting off the hard metal of her motorcycle, pounding into the tarmac as she hit the ground. She used the momentum to bring herself into a backwards roll, landing crouched behind her motorcycle, blood spurting from her arm as she drew the other Desert Eagle.

_Bastards!_

As the shots slowly stopped, she waited, blood running freely down her forearm and dropping gently to the asphalt. She felt her anger bubbling. She should have expected as much from low-lives like these guys.

"_Meg, are you alright?" _Sei demanded by her ear, but Meg ignored her. Over the blaring horns and screeching tyres and angry voices, she could hear them.

"Nice shootin', Yock. Sure cleaned up that bitch's ass."

"The whore won't mess with Yock and Kervil any time soon." There was a savage ferocity to Yock's voice. "We cleaned her up _good._"

Meg's anger boiled over and she slowly climbed to her feet, each gun trained on each man. They both stopped in their tracks and stared. The faces seemed familiar.

_((Meg stared at the file of the drug-runner ring Bai-Lan had singled out for Sei's group to hunt. Her lips compressed. _

_Yock Johnson, age thirty five, competent with handguns and knives alike. The threat-assessment Bai-Lan gave the first file was a lowly C+. Hardly a threat at all, Meg noted, before flicking to the next member of the drug-running gang. _

_Kervil Vrage, age twenty nice, outstanding skills when it comes to driving. Has previous charges of grand theft auto with RAPT – not that Meg truly cared. Threat-assessment – C. A truly low class criminal. It was enough to make Meg wonder why Bai-Lan was bothering with such low-key criminal rings. Especially since the remnants of RAPT was still out there.))_

Once again, she could almost hear the thoughts going through their heads as they stumbled backwards, sweating in fear and their faces twisted in terror at the sight of her. A cruel amusement soured her stomach as she stared at the pathetic life forms she'd been ordered to hunt down for Bai-Lan.

'_Oh shit' is damn __right__, motherfuckers. _She felt a snarl tugging at the corners of her lips as she rose up, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of the old…

"You two are coming with me. Or you two are going to wish I killed you here and now," she told them quietly, knowing they would hear her despite the swell of noise. The men backed away further, the man Meg recognised as Yock reached into the car.

Meg pulled back the hammer of her left Desert Eagle threateningly. There were people watching from the safety of their cars, staring at her fearfully. She ignored them, focusing entirely on the two men before her.

"Touch that rifle and I swear, I will kill you."

Unnerved, Yock pulled his hand away from the pickup, and demanded instead, "What do you want?"

She stared at them through her dyed-red bangs, swearing beneath her breath. "Bai-Lan has considered you both… worthy targets of an investigation."

_As such, I can't kill you. Yet._

"Bai-Lan?" Kervil spat at the ground. "You expect us to believe Bai-Lan employs a slut like you to come after guys like us? You got _no idea! _No idea of what the Tokyo Serpents got up their sleeves, you smarmy little bitch."

Meg was quickly tiring of these two. Asses… just scum, gnawing away at the roots of Tokyo. Far more worthy people of life had walked the packed streets, cleaning up the mess made by the criminals and RAPT alike, before fading forever, devoured by fate…

The ground rumbled dangerously, and Meg's eyes narrowed.

_God damn it._

"_Meg! There's a massive force heading straight towards your position!" _Amy told her through overwhelming static. _"It looks like a cybot!"_

The ground between Meg and the two drug-runners split open, and the bounty hunter leapt back, cursing. Her side of the highway began to break away beneath her feet, tracking her footsteps dangerously as she retreated back and away from her targets. A large, silver hand shot out from within the massive crack, clawing a few cars down into its depths before climbing out. Meg swore again as the unmistakable form of an old RAPT cybot allowed Kervil and Yock to climb aboard.

_Those bastards had backup all along! There's only one way to deal with these fuckers. _She rolled to her feet, shooting uselessly at the silver cybot that had taken her targets. The bullets glanced off the reinforced steel armour, protecting its allies with one massive silver hand, but only when the mags were finally emptied did Meg stop firing.

"Shit."

She scrambled backwards as the silver hand went crashing into the area she had been standing mere moments ago. Concrete crumbled around it – Meg clenched her teeth, reloaded and aimed for the head, where the two drug runners had vanished into the cybot. The bullets grazed over the armour, ricocheting into the blood red sky as the sun set. The silver cybot seemed to be stained red, as it leapt off the remains of the highway and to the ground below. Meg dashed forwards, tracing the cybot's path with her eyes desperately.

Her eyes scanned the areas either side of the highway – construction sits all around. There were thousands of places a cybot could hide in this part of town. She had to find them – quick.

"Prep Jango R!" she told Amy shortly. "I'm going after them!"

There was a cackle of glee from the other end.

"_Those guys are toast now!"_ Amy hummed beneath her breath the tunes of her latest pop-song obsession, then laughed. _"Jango R is on his way!" _

Meg breathed a sigh, staring after the dust-cloud created by the silver cybot. Jango R wasn't far, but every second counted. Growling under her breath, Meg took the crumbling edge of the highway in a running jump and sailed down into the darkening construction site below. The air was colder down there, and the ground slightly damp as she braced herself for the impact and waited, the sounds of the chaotic highway above seeming very far away now as the red-head regained her focus.

Littered around her were the smoking shells of the collateral damage the cybot had caused. She couldn't help these people now, they were doubtlessly all dead. She just had to focus on her mission, her _goal. _

"_The silver cybot seems to be heading north towards the anarchy district." _Amy reported to her, transmitting a satellite image of the enemy cybot. _"Its pace appears to be slowing, and with Jango R's renewed capabilities in the speed department, you should catch up no-sweat!" _

Meg nodded quickly, slinking forwards in the cool darkness of the construction site. The modified twin Desert Eagles were raised, despite the pain in her arm, her fingers nearly trembling on the triggers. Everything was silent and sleepy, and with a relieved sigh Meg holstered the Desert Eagles. She closed her eyes, hearing the sound of ion-boosters and a speeding tower of metal hurtling her way, so loud it had to be on top of her almost –

Jango R – modelled so closely on the original Jango, the Jango that had been torn up in the RAPT HQ explosion five years ago – sailed through the air and crashed to the ground. The glowing green eyes slowly looked up at Meg, before crouching, waiting.

"_And heeeeeeere's Jango R! Time to kick some drug-running ass!"_

Meg slid into the cockpit of Jango R, stripping her blood-soaked red jacket off and strapping herself into the pilot's seat. Yock and his friends had _really _done it, this time.

"Nowhere to run… nowhere to hide," she told the fleeing image of the silver cybot, smirking and activating dash-mode. Wheels emerged from the below Jango R's feet, powerful boosters sprouted from the metallic hulk's shoulders. Meg smirked as she activated the boosters and watched the world whirl by in a dizzying blur of colour.

"And I'll be damned if I show you mercy."

Her eyes were fixed on the map of Tokyo plaster all over the transmission screen, but an image of Amy flickered to her right. The teenager – wearing a brown jacket and a miniskirt – gave her a big grin and a wave.

"_Just testing my latest amendment to Jango's program, 'Amy TV'. No need for the scowl, you stupid ingrate. I AM the one who's gonna get your fat ass to the drug-runners, no?"_

Meg nodded. "Spill the beans already, then."

Jango R ducked a low-lying steel beam, swerving around a couple of trucks and using a crane to change direction. Meg accelerated, adding more power to the boosters. She had to hurry up – her fingers felt itchy on the triggers, she wanted to finish this goddamn mission and prove to them that she wasn't weak or useless –

"_You're cute, but you're weak, Meg,"_the hated voice was whispering in her mind venomously. Meg ignored it – it had been so long ago, she was surprised she could still remember the soft, deadly voice now. Especially when Jo's voice had faded away…

"_Just follow this path here, and you'll slam straight into those guys. We're countin' on ya!" _Amy's visage flickered from the display screen and was gone, leaving only the designated path Meg was to follow. It was winding, dangerous and involved chaos – Meg smirked. It was perfect.

* * *

"Hey… you really think we're on Bai-Lan's wanted list now?" Yock asked quietly inside the silver cybot. His two friends were silent, focusing only on the escape route they'd planned if they authorities caught up to them finally. They'd lost their product back in the white pickup truck, but that could be rectified. So long as they were alive to do so, everything was a-ok, as Kervil had put it when they had clambered into Razor's salvaged cybot.

The ex-RAPT pilot sneered. "Obviously. Worse, Bai-Lan have sent Mitarai after us. Could you guys have been anymore idiotic?"

Kervil was picking his teeth with a toothpick, lounging in one of the two passenger seats. He laughed coarsely. "Mitarai. Why does that ring a bell?"

Razor punched Kervil's shoulder. "Remember those experiments on the brain that RAPT used to carry out before it fell and kicked us out?" At the two men's nods, Razor continued. "Well, word is she was involved, because shortly after she appears – like a burning angel, they say. Deadly, powerful. 'Til she was caught in the explosion that destroyed RAPT. She emerged again – the red coat and everything – and remained _alive. _She's a tough one, don't make that mistake.

"The Genocide Angel… and now her. So, understand, you two fools? We gotta keep her off our tails, or we're as good as RAPT is. Dead." Razor swore and frowned at the screen. "What the-"

Something incredibly fast was approaching their position, so fast it was nearly on top of them before Razor could even blink –

The building beside them exploded in a shower of glass, brick and mortar, a massive red hand lashing out and taking hold of the silver cybot's leg and hurled them into the next building. Kervil was thrown from his seat and into the plexiglass. He screamed.

"Kervil!" Yock shouted as Kervil tumbled back to his seat, and then turned to the red cybot – obviously that _girl's _cybot! Rage clouded his vision. _"YOU'LL PAY!"_

Razor tried to manoeuvre the silver cybot away from the red one, but the girl's voice snarled over the comm. link she created between the two cybots,

"Not likely." And suddenly, the three drug-runners were staring down the twin barrels of the red cybot's guns. All three flinched as she opened fire, cleanly severing the cybot's head from its shoulders and ripping it free.

The green eyes of the red cybot glowered down at them.

Razor sighed. It was either go with Bai-Lan or die, it appeared. "Yield," he told her.

Mitarai had won.

* * *

Meg lay on her bed in the quietly hovering _Elizabeth_ airship, staring dully at the night lights of Tokyo. Amy was out with her cyber-friend, celebrating yet another 'victory for the mind of the supreme Amy' and Sei was contacting the Bai-Lan council to let them know about the successful capture of the Tokyo Serpent drug-runners.

The red-head sighed, clenching her fist tighter around the softness she held, easing her pain in the darkness of her room. Her bicep was wrapped in tight bandages.

Meg let her eyes drift shut, fixing in her mind the rapidly fading face of a woman with silver hair and blazing red eyes – her sleeping ritual.

In her fist she held a tattered, cream scarf.


	2. Vengeful Fury

**Chapter Two: Vengeful Fury**

Tokyo City, when Meg had first arrived in the hopelessly corrupt and overrun metropolis, had repulsed her. The pain and suffering, the apathetic look in the eyes of the civilians as they tries to eke out a scarce existence amidst the terror and rot affecting the city at it's very core. But, perhaps what most disgusted Meg was that she had seen that look before. Back home – back in New York. The blank stare of those who knew they were damned no matter what they did, no matter who they turned to, what they stole to survive.

Meg waited for the lights to change before crossing the road, valuing her life a little too much to tempt the raging traffic that characterised Tokyo. She tilted her face up, staring up at the dizzying heights of the skyscrapers all around her, staring at the black night sky and at the dim silver orb in the sky. It was her night off from Bai-Lan's never-ending schedule, and Sei had practically ordered her to go into the city and try to have some fun. Meg wasn't against it, so to speak. She just had a lot of pro-bono jobs lined up.

Things hadn't really changed for her during that one year she had worked with Jo, Sei and Amy for Bai-Lan. She had money, food, a bed and Jo, her best friend and the person she could always count on. Her mind instinctively shied away from the memories of the silver-haired gunner, and she crossed the road with the amassed crowd and darted into the side alley, heading north.

She hadn't truly grown until that… _incident _occurred five years ago at the RAPT headquarters. The day that Jo had forced her to look out for herself. Since that day, Meg had tried to fill in the gap left by the silver-haired woman. She had no idea if she had succeeded or not, but she was content in herself and her abilities now.

No longer was she the damsel in distress, the 'chief hostage' as Amy had once dubbed her.

The night air was frigid, and her breath misted before her as she jogged towards her destination. She couldn't turn her thoughts off – any more than she could have stopped herself from being ready to shoot at a moment's warning.

Admittedly, her fighting style was… different from the original gunner's traditional role of cowboy. But it was her own, and for that she was grateful. Reminders of Jo still bordered on painful, even five years later.

She hummed beneath her breath, slowing as she passed by a wall plastered with wanted posters, promising hefty bounties. She paused, snatching a poster that piqued her interest from the wall and smoothing it with her gloved fingers. A smile quirked her lips. Another dead or alive hunt for a spy who allegedly stole thousands in yen from the new casino down town. Maybe she'd check it out when her higher-priority bounties were taken out, if it were still available.

Meg smiled at her own idiocy.

"Of course it will be," she told herself quietly. She was the best bounty-hunter in Tokyo. She shivered as she felt the presence of someone else.

She crumpled the wanted poster, dismissing the image of the woman splashed over the front from her mind and letting it fall to the ground. First to the anarchy district to pick up a few leads on a bounty she'd been pursuing for several days, and then back to the _Elizabeth. _

Who knew, maybe Sei and Amy were watching every move as she made them… fighting back a shudder and the desire to look covertly over her shoulder for any hidden cameras, Meg jogged on, letting the exercise warm her slightly stiff body. Her left arm ached a little, but it was easily ignored. Just a nick from those ass drug-runners she'd taken care of the other week. Sei had handed them over to Bai-Lan the next day, for both punishment and oddly enough, protection.

Meg slowed as she felt killing intent swell from within the darkness before her. Her eyes narrowed, trying to pierce the gloom. Instinctively, her fingers drew her left modified Desert Eagle, brushing her ginger bangs back with her other hand before drawing the final gun. She cocked them, advancing forwards very slowly.

If possible, the killing intent boring into her very being seemed to intensify. Meg felt an empty calm wash over her.

_Whatever you are, bring it on. I'm not afraid. _Her teeth clenched as she eased herself around the corner of the alleyway, letting her guns lead the way and keeping herself low and pressed to the wall. She could hear the traffic of Tokyo rushing nearby, the steady stream of engines revving calming her.

"M-meg…" Something bloodied and silver stumbled forwards and into Meg's line of vision.

Time stopped.

Meg's eyes widened, the Desert Eagles dropping from her suddenly lax fingers.

_Oh god… _She pressed her hands to her mouth as a pair of bloodshot red eyes bored into her own.

"Jo?" She swallowed unsteadily, stumbling forwards. Was it really… Jo?

Jo's bloodied mouth twitched into a cruel smile. Blood ran freely down her body as gashes opened up over her stomach and face then stitched themselves shut instantly, burns flaring then fading from her skin, bruises patterning her body then vanishing. Meg fought the urge not to vomit, falling to her knees. Tears ran down her cheeks freely.

"Oh god… _Jo…_" She couldn't look any more, but she could see Jo's bloodied cowboy boots swagger into view.

"Why won't you look at me, Meg?" Jo's voice asked her softly, and Meg felt some horrific compulsion force her to lift her gaze to the crimson eyed woman's. A bloody rent ran down her cheek for a moment. A sob wracked Meg as she stared at the form of her best friend, at her _Jo. _

It was too awful.

"Why won't you hug me, Meg? Touch your old friend, make me feel _alive, _like you used too? Hold me like you used to, like you've always wanted?"

Meg felt herself rise to her feet, stumbling step by step closer. It was all she wanted to do. The only thing she wanted. She stretched a hand hopelessly out to Jo, nearly blinded by tears – then whirled and put a bullet straight through Jo's head.

The image crashed to the ground, leaving a giant, scaled beast in Jo's place. It shrieked in pain and fury, attempting to writhe to its feet so it could attack again. Meg snarled, rage nearly blinding her as she advanced.

_How _ _ dare _ _ this creature defile you? _

Meg launched herself with a scream of rage at the mimic, kneeling on top of the creature's chest and sending a whole magazine of bullets into the mimic's head. Green blood spurted over her as she hit an artery. She reloaded and sent the slugs pounding into the twitching corpse of a bounty that had eluded her for a number of weeks.

_((Meg peeled the poster off the wall in the anarchy district, running her eyes over the details of the bounty. A creature that escaped from RAPT's hidden laboratories, most likely a genetic experiment. In her mind, Jo's unobtrusive figure seemed to solidify for a moment._

"_Big bounty for such a dumb animal." Meg sighed and flipped her ginger hair over her shoulder. "I guess that illusion-effect it has going for it really makes it a hard target."_

_Right, Jo?))_

Meg wiped the slime from her cheek angrily, fighting the urge to fill this corpse completely with _lead. _How dare it use Jo?

The pulsating green brain splattered all over the dirty concrete seemed to be the only answer; an answer that filled her gut with a sour bitterness. Her hands trembled. RAPT.

Her eyes closed as she wondered exactly how the mimic had known her name. Perhaps… it had lifted her thoughts from her head? Her memories and fears for Jo? She wiped her eyes quickly.

_Not crying, _she told herself firmly. _Not after all this time. _

But how had that creature known all that she'd felt for the silver-haired gunner? It seemed to be the only answer. Meg's hand clenched into a fist and slammed repeatedly into the concrete.

"Damn it…"

Sirens sounded in the distance, and Meg selected her 'proof of kill' evidence from the creature's body. A nice head would probably do for the cheats around the anarchy distract, she decided with a nod, careful to avoid the rest of the dying green brain crawling slowly and painstakingly from the illusionist's shattered skull. Her stomach twisting bitterly, she grabbed the mimic's severed head by the horns and turned her back on the mutated organ.

Those things deserved to stay in the past, where they belonged.

* * *

For Sei, it had been one of those days you rarely want to repeat, but knew had to be dealt with. More, the entire experience had left her drained of all life and with very little desire to continue on as Bai-Lan's leader. She sighed and took a long drag on her cigarette, inhaling the smoke deeply, begging mentally for it to revitalise her into a state in which she could actually _deal _with life. As it was, she had a pounding headache…

Four years ago, her grandfather had unexpectedly passed away, years – years! – before Sei would have even considered herself ready to take upon full responsibility as the Bai-Lan clan's head. In the weeks following his death – peacefully, in his sleep – Bai-Lan had been in chaos, the succession in confusion, her worthiness to the mantel questioned again and again. Sei herself had had doubts about her worthiness, and the initial weight of that leadership had nearly drowned her.

Still, here she was. Leader of one of China's most prestigious clans and captain of her grandfather's pride and joy; the airship _Elizabeth_ and the flying base it allowed her to work from. As Amy would have put it, acquiring the airship had added such a degree of manoeuvrability, the likes they had never _dreamed _of in the trailer. Their entire operation could be stored in the airship and it still had room to spare.

Sei rubbed her temple, reaching for the glass of wine. The crystal stem felt cool on her warm skin, and Sei drained the contents in a single swallow.

Even though becoming leader of Bai-Lan had vastly increased her power in the field, the paperwork and internal affairs always seemed to leave her exhausted. Never a day went past without somebody confronting her about a choice they didn't like, or over the cutbacks to their squad's budget, or about matters as small as that they hated those they were teamed up with. Worse, when she finally turned them down, a couple of days later she would come across that _same _appeal – just in writing!

It was her duty to deal with it; an honour. Her grandfather had trained her for this, and she had known the inevitability of her fate for many years before his death. She just wished things were a little easier and less frustrating.

The door to her private chambers slid open – usually barely perceptible, but her migraine seemed to be magnifying every sound and making it hurt… Sei looked up, taking another puff. Amy, resident hacker of Sei's own Bai-Lan team, strode inside. Of the three she had started out with, it had been the then-preteen that had grown the most physically. Now almost as tall as Sei and dressed in a short yellow skirt, a brown jacket and thigh-high blue socks, Amy's brown eyes lit up as she began to smirk.

However much Amy had matured physically, mentally the girl had not changed.

Sei breathed out, watching the smoke slowly disperse around the room… waiting. Amy did not disappoint her.

"Meg's gone in the anarchy district again. That stupid know-it-all."

Sighing, Sei set the long-stemmed glass down onto the metallic table in the centre of her room. Bai-Lan's symbol had been etched into the surface – as it had been on almost every other surface available in the apartment, Sei noted with a wry smile.

Meg – possibly the crux of very many of her problems to date. A constant reminder of everything that had gone down that day in RAPT's headquarters, a constant pain. Sei truly wished she could do well by Meg, and when Jo's death had brought about a new state of focus for the redhead, Sei had nearly been thanking her lucky stars. Losing Jo had been a terrible blow for the team; to have her replaced almost immediately was like a godsend.

Sei regretted it now. Instead of accepting Meg's offer to fill Jo's role, perhaps she should have let the girl go and grieve fully. Now, the girl was almost as uncontrollable as Jo had been. Perhaps worse. Jo had been tempered by periods of calm and contentment; Meg was filled with buried rage and the desire for vengeance on the shattered and hidden RAPT.

"I take it you have put a tracker on her again." It wasn't a question, and Amy didn't even have the grace to look ashamed.

"You _know _what she's like, Sei. A big, fat idiot." Amy's eyes seemed to glint as she smiled winningly at the older woman. "If we can follow her movements, perhaps we might have a chance to get through to her!"

Sei looked at Amy for a moment, wondering…

She nodded shortly. "Very well, Amy. Inform me of any more suspicious activities, and be ready to scramble should she appear to be in danger."

Amy grinned widely and ducked out of the chambers. Sei allowed herself to relax, absently massaging the webbed burn-scars that covered her left hand. Five years…

_Perhaps… it is not too late to put a stop to Meg's obsession._

* * *

Nobody gave Meg a second look as she crossed the line between civilisation and chaos; perhaps they were used to her presence in the district of Tokyo 'affectionately' named the anarchy district. Perhaps they noticed the steely look in her eyes. Or perhaps they were merely scared off by the fact that at her belt, two custom Desert Eagles were stashed. Either way, Meg didn't care. She didn't come to this district to pick fights with the common thugs.

She quickly made her way through the broken and shattered buildings, almost relishing the chaos and savage simplicity of the district. Only survival mattered, and those who survived were the toughest there were. Not even the new Tokyo police force – based on the Osaka design and implemented by one Takane Katsu – had been able to control the hardy weed that was the anarchy district. So long as they kept to themselves, Meg supposed, the Tokyo-Hanshin police force was content to let them be.

But RAPT, Meg had noted, were still high on their priority list. The remnants of the corrupted police force had dug themselves deeply into Tokyo's core, hiding from the THP with everything their cowardly hearts had.

Meg smirked coldly. It was not the THP that RAPT should have been worried about; it was her.

Since the discovery of the burned out and twisted hulk that had been Jango, Meg had been forced to admit that Jo had been destroyed completely during her assault on the RAPT headquarters. Even Sei was unable to add any details to Jo's end; all she had been able to recall had been the shove as Jo had pushed Sei into the cockpit of Jango, then a blinding light…

But even though that admittance had come, Meg was unable to let go of the anger that was buried deep inside her. The desperate need to avenge Jo's death – and life, she supposed – and the mindless hatred she held RAPT in. She had allowed herself no other course of action; it was what she had wanted from the very moment she had surveyed the wreckage, hoping against the odds that Jo had lived.

Meg snapped to awareness as she arrived at her destination, her entire body buzzing with energy. A run-down and charred out building of brick and mortar, it was here that Meg had received the information on the mimic bounty. An old man in the remnants of a pinstriped suit –

A few of the men lingering by the door looked up as she approached, all three pairs of their eyes lighting up with interest. Meg's mouth soured as she looked them over; skinny, badly-trained guns for hire. No doubt they only just knew the difference between the butt of a gun and the barrel – if that.

The weasel-like blond spat a bit of tobacco-stained mucus to the filthy pavement, the dim lights glaring down in a sickly yellow haze.

"Hey there, babe." He smiled, his teeth full of nicotine discolouring and decay. "What's you're price?"

In the distance Meg could hear screams for mercy, followed by gunshots. Quiet followed.

"Whachu say, bitch?" The taller, balding hired gun was reaching into his filthy jacket, digging around for his money. Meg's mouth twisted in distaste, the canvas bag with the mimic's head in it beginning to cut off the circulation in her gloved fingers. Her shoulder had begun to ache…

"Three times the pay." The final gun's eyes were gleaming with barely contained lust. Meg smiled sweetly at them, careful not to let her bitterness show as she reached into the canvas bag, seized the head by the horns and drew it out of the bag quickly.

The three mercenaries scrambled back as one, swearing collectively.

"Boys, if you could let your boss know I'm out here, waitin' for my pay off?" She dropped the head back into the back, wiping the congealing blood from her gloved fingers on her dark pants. She watched with a certain amount of satisfaction as the weasel staggered to his feet and vanished with a flash into the crumbling building they were guarding.

Seconds passed, and Meg busied herself with studying the cracked pavement, avoiding the now-measuring gazes of the two remaining mercenaries in the doorway. A smile twitched the corners of her mouth as she heard a muffled yell from the next storey.

An old, balding man craned out the shattered window, squinting down blearily at her. He had not changed in the week since she had met the old contractor, an already she could smell the sickly body odour radiating from him. His face was lined and craggy, and suddenly he frowned.

"Why, if it isn't my favourite red-head!" His voice was harsh and worn, but held that unmistakable note of a man wary of the company he was keeping.

Meg shrugged. "I suppose so. You got that ten thousand yen you put up for bounty, or am I going to have to _collect _it?"

The creases in the man's face seemed to deepen in affront. "Jaro! Take her proof of kill up to me to examine, then we'll think about payin' ya sorry hide."

The bald mercenary snapped a lazy salute, then seized the canvas bag from Meg's hands. She allowed this, fighting down the urge to take a swing at the misogynist's back as he vanished through the soot-blackened doorway. The final man – one with a face covered in tattoos – gave her a level look before following his fellows. Meg looked after them, her stomach beginning to roil with unease. She looked back up at the window the contractor had leant out of, waiting for somebody to shout out that they were dropping the bounty down.

There was a glint from above, and by purest instinct, Meg rolled aside as a bullet slammed into the ground where she had been standing a breath before. She scrambled to her hands and knees, her breath catching as the wound in her shoulder tore anew, warm blood beginning to soak into the red fabric of her skin-tight jacket. She cursed as a horrifyingly familiar sound filled her eyes.

_-tickticktickticktick-_

She yelped and hurled herself a couple more feet away just as the pipe bomb exploded behind her, showering her body with stray pieces of debris and rubble. She heaved herself to her feet, surprising herself at how fast she had moved, drawing her Desert Eagles as she went. She checked her ammunition as she bolted towards the burned-out base's entrance, and smirked. The clips were full, as usual. Meg pressed herself into the doorframe as she tilted her left firearm to catch the light.

There was a reason Meg kept her guns with a mirror finish, after all. She squinted as she tried to make out the details the image gave her of the dark interior. Weasel had come down the stairs, waiting in the oppressive darkness – Meg had no doubt in her mind that he was armed and more than willing to shoot. There was more movement, and Meg felt her entire body tense up. How many gunmen did this man have at his disposal? Twenty? Thirty?

She clenched her teeth. Even for her, it would be suicide to collect the bounty by force now. She would have to let this go – for now.

Meg wasn't about to die by some street thug's hands before she claimed her vengeance from the remnants of RAPT's dying corpse. Holstering her Desert Eagles, Meg turned her back on the gang of hired guns.

"I don't have time for this," she told the gang, and strode away from the burned out building. The blood seeping through her jacket was cold and frosty from the frigid night, and she grimaced.

_Sei's gonna kill me._


	3. Checkmate

**Chapter Three: Checkmate**

Meg waited patiently, her arm outstretched in front of her as Amy wrapped new bandages around the wound site, biting back a wince as the younger girl tightened the linen painfully. Amy's brown eyes flickered over to her occasionally, as if waiting for something. A confession of her whereabouts this past night, maybe an apology for causing a stir in the airship, perhaps a promise to be good and play it safe like the dog Bai-Lan seemed to want her to be. Bite only when told to attack… Meg's lips quirked in a bitter smile. She didn't – couldn't – work like that.

Amy thrust a pin through the bandages to tie them off, leaning back and releasing Meg's arm from her vice-like grip. Meg drew her arm back quickly, rubbing the injury with her free hand. Her gloves and red jacket were tossed unceremoniously off to the side, leaving Meg feeling the cold of the night quite vividly through her vest.

"Thanks Aims. How much is a code of silence going to be this time?" As much as Meg loathed forking out money to Amy, a lecture on proper city etiquette from Sei wasn't the way she wanted to spend the rest of the night. After all, she had a couple of sources to check up on, her blood-soaked jacket to wash and a new gun to order…

"Nothing." Amy turned her back on the older woman abruptly, grabbing the assorted medical materials and shoving them in the cupboard. Meg watched her crash about the first-aid room, raising one coppery eyebrow at her antics.

"Nothing meaning it's free this time, or nothing meaning you're telling Sei?" The redhead crossed her arms over her chest as she advanced on Amy's turned back, frowning at the young tech-whiz as she craned over Amy's shoulder. The younger girl froze up suddenly, staring at the bottle of disinfectant in her hands. Her knuckles were going very white, and Meg's frown deepened.

"You can't stop me, Meg," Amy told her quietly as she slowly opened the final cupboard and placed the bottle in it a little more carefully than before. Meg shrugged, moving back to the table and draping her jacket and gloves over her good arm. When she turned to speak to Amy one last time, the younger tech-whiz had vanished – and so was Meg's chance at avoiding confrontation with Sei.

Meg swore beneath her breath.

_God damn it, Amy…_

She ran her fingers through her long red hair in frustration before storming out of the first aid room, intent on finding Amy before Amy found Sei.

* * *

Amy pressed her back to the cool metal of the airship, her eyes fixed on the red-haired warrior in the first aid room. She could hear her swearing, see her running her fingers through her hair –the tech-whiz's breath caught as Meg strode by her, a steely glint in her eye, and she pressed herself further into the shadows.

Her hands were trembling, and a blush still stained her cheeks. She could still smell the scent of gunpowder and perfume, of blood and the unmistakable scent of Meg… Amy let herself sink to the floor as the sound of the warrior's footsteps faded into the distance and finally into an oppressive quiet.

* * *

The glowing, digital clock in Meg's room without any further incidents in the _Elizabeth. _After Amy had trounced off to some unknown part of the Bai-Lan airship, Meg had attempted to search her out in vain; not even threats to reveal to Sei about Amy's secret stash of hacked porn had drawn the irritating girl out from wherever she had retreated to.

Cursing beneath her breath, Meg allowed herself to slide into her room, the steady hum of the airship's engines ignored with practiced ease. The lights of Tokyo were distant but bright, the entire city seeming to glow with an otherworldly light. Meg sighed, wrapping her fingers around her left bicep. She had planned on tracking another of her bounties, but things had gotten out of hand too quickly with the last job. It wasn't her goal to get killed by some random Tokyo thug; she had too much to do, too much to live for just yet. She tossed the blood-stained jacket to the floor, followed by her gloves and boots and pulled her t-shirt over her head.

She sank to the small bed gratefully then, her arm throbbing painfully when she reached out to the bedside table, her fingers closing instinctively around the tattered wool draped there and pulled it close. No longer did it smell like the long-lost gunner. The scent had faded quickly; dispersing as if the woman had merely been a dream Meg had once had… a wonderful dream, but a dream nonetheless. Was it not for the recordings showing that Jo Carpenter – a name she had assumed shortly after Meg had met her – had indeed worked for Bai-Lan for one short year, Meg may have been tempted to merely dismiss her as the most amazing delusion.

Meg clenched the cream scarf in her hand and forced herself to lie down on the mattress, attempting to relax each of her rigid muscles and allow herself the dreamless refuge of sleep. She stared up at the darkened roof of her room, mentally counting black sheep. She rolled over onto her side, staring out the window. She slid off the bed and started to do a couple of sit-ups, she banged her head repeatedly against her bedroom's door, before gazing up at that blackened roof once again. Frustration burned in her stomach, anger prickling in the corners of her eyes.

Sleep, she knew, was not going to come to her tonight. Not with the agony in her arm, the restlessness of her thoughts – tomorrow, she was to assist a businessman being escorted to some meeting she'd never heard of…

Lighting up a cigarette in defeat, Meg tried to draw a steady breath of the calming smoke. Her inhale trembled fitfully, and she ground her teeth shut. Somewhere in the darkness, she heard _Elizabeth's _communication service whir into action and one of Amy's robotic creations – either Nana or Hachi – took the incoming voice-call. Meg sighed and let the smoke escape her lips, the cigarette held carelessly between thumb and forefinger. The smoke's unobtrusive glint was the only light in the gloomy room, but for the glow cast by her radio-alarm clock.

The airship felt quiet tonight – or as quiet as the _Elizabeth _ever was. The drone of the engines, the screeching of wheels from the nearby Tokyo highway – Meg brought the smoke up to her lips again, the motion smoother as she began to calm down. Her muscles began to relax finally, but the pain in her arm was another thing entirely. Agony lanced steadily with her heart beat, and she could already feel a dampness through the tightly-wound linen. She covered her eyes with her forearm.

An eternity passed for Meg before the speaker-phone by her bed crackled to life, and impersonal and electronic voice coming from the darkness.

"Ms Mitarai, we have detected an incoming voice call for you. Would you like to receive this call, Ms Mitarai?"

Meg withdrew her arm from her eyes.

_Nana, then. _She gingerly pushed herself to a sitting position and swung her legs around, resting her feet on the cold floor. Her arm throbbed angrily, preying upon every spare thought she had and challenging all of her self-control to stop a long groan of pain. She drew in a quick breath through gritted teeth, and reached for the switch. Light flooded the room as Nana's visage appeared on the small screen by Meg's bed. The red-head squinted at the sudden glow, shielding them from the brightness.

"Who's asking for me?" she demanded of the robotic cat-woman – mouse-brown hair, a white body-suit and pink cat ears – plastered over the screen. The number '7' was splashed over her right bicep.

"The caller has made herself known as one of Ms Mitarai's many employers."

Meg felt herself relax, feeling a little light-headed. "Thanks Nana, I'll accept the call."

"As you wish, Ms Mitarai." Nana's infuriatingly polite voice came one final time as she began to transfer the call to Meg's personal line – too bad it wasn't a video call. The woman ran her fingers through her bangs distractedly, waiting for the transfer to complete itself. There was a soft click.

"Mitarai," Meg told the unidentified person on the other end of the line confidently. "If this is about –"

"_It is hardly about the __mimic__ you dispatched earlier this evening."_ The voice was thick, Japanese and distorted – no coincidence, Meg knew. Her stomach contracted, and suddenly the pain in her shoulder seemed insignificant as adrenaline burst through her veins. Her blue eyes narrowed as she brought the voice-receiver closer to her mouth.

"You know about that?" She lowered her voice, settling into the less familiar language of Japanese. Her stomach began to hurt as the hated pangs of panic began to set in. "Who _is _this?" she demanded into the receiver, her voice cracking in its harshness. There was a short silence from the other end.

"_If I were you, Megumi Mitarai, I would be more worried about what __I__ know of __you__…" _the voice hissed in her ear menacingly, and Meg felt her whole body still.

"What do you mean?" Meg whispered quietly, wiping her palms on her nightshirt and reaching for the bedside table. The cream scarf lay forgotten on the bed as Meg's fingertips grazed over the butt of one of her Desert Eagles –

"_I wouldn't touch that if I were you, little Meg." _

Meg withdrew her hand quickly, her eyes searching the darkened room. Cameras? Or was she watching her from outside? Meg's skin crawled.

"_Now. Little Meg, what might it be that I want from you?"_

She let the cigarette drop to the floor, the ashes smouldering on the metal floor before finally winking out. Meg's heartbeat was racing, pounding in her eyes, her ears, her hands, her whole body _prickled_ –

"My services," she told the voice confidently. This hadn't been the first time she had been propositioned this way, and now that she was back in more familiar territory, she felt a small part of her usual arrogance slip back into her.

The caller laughed harshly.

"_Don't flatter yourself. I have men quite ready to take you out in a heartbeat."_

Meg's eyes narrowed again. "Then what do you want? I'm getting tired of this conversation."

"_You are hardly the vigilante my superiors are so afraid of, then."_

She halted in the motion of hanging up the comm. link, and her lips drew back in a snarl.

"RAPT."

"_Correct." _The voice hardly seemed congratulatory.

Meg's hands trembled violently as she gripped the phone. A bead of sweat slowly rolled down the side of her face, her breathing coming fast and hard. RAPT. The beaten, cowed organisation she now hunted… contacting her. It made no sense. None.

_How dare they?_

"_Five years ago, two women and a cybot launched an attack on our headquarters. That attack devastated our forces, and allowed the Hanshin-Osaka police force to move in on our territory for… ethical reasons. As you well know, only one of those women survived that assault."_

"And so you wanted to call me up and _brag_ about it?" Meg growled savagely. "Let me tell you _this. _You are five_ years _too late! Five years ago I may have _cared!_"

"_Then I take it you do not wish for the information regarding the bounty you posted all those years ago? Information on a certain RAPT-engineered woman… Jo Carpenter, you called her?"_

Meg's heart stopped, her eyes going wide. Her breathing became unsteady, and coldness began to seep through her bones.

_J-Jo?_

"Y-you _what?"_

"_I have recently come into possession of information pertaining to the fate of the person of interest. However; if you want this information, you must find it yourself." _The voice sounded insufferably smug. Meg's breath kept catching in her throat.

_Jo…_

"You mean for me to follow a bunch of clues," she stated as calmly as she could. Her mind was a riot; image after image, theory after theory crashed one over the other until she could barely think straight… Briefly, the image of the silver-haired woman sharpened until it became painfully clear, before it faded amidst the new thoughts and feelings.

"_Precisely. To ensure my own safety, of course."_

Meg sneered. "Or for your own sick amusement."

"_Perhaps. Either way, you must do as I say. Now, little Meg. Reach over to your bedside table – no, a little further than that, little Meg."_

Meg's hand – trembling – grazed over something wide and flat. She took a deep, steadying breath.

"_Take it. In this envelope is your first destination; and I suggest you do not take your time in searching out the others."_

The line went dead.

Her fingers clammy and tremulous, Meg snapped the lights on in her room and tore open the tan envelope open. The contents spilled to the ground, newspaper clippings of all the adverts that Meg had posted up around Tokyo, all increases in bounty, Jo's description, painful pleas Meg had penned for Jo to come home – everything was there. Except that vital information; the information Meg craved. Her hands shook as her eyes fixed on a slip of paper bearing an address and locker number.

_Tokyo City station, locker 107._

* * *

"I _said_ that I cannot allow you to leave at this hour of the night to follow some wild goose chase! Not when Bai-Lan has been assigned to escort the president of Ormicon Inc. to the business summit tomorrow! Perhaps _afterwards, _you may search the city." Sei didn't even look up from the document she was reading, a pen held loosely in her right hand. Meg could see the scars stretched tight over her knuckles – burn scars, cuts, broken bones leaving their mark on her once flawless skin.

Meg slammed the documents onto Sei's desk.

"_That's not good enough!" _she spat, unable to believe that Sei was going to deny her this _one _chance. The one thing she had requested these five years! "God _damn_ it Sei, I have to do this!"

Sei's blue eyes flickered up to meet her own finally, the older woman carefully removing her reading glasses. "Meg, the caller couldn't be traced. You've tried to get Nana to locate the caller numerous times, but the location keeps coming up randomly. A professional hoax is the only answer that seems remotely plausible."

Meg's fist trembled, and she struck out at the metal walls of the _Elizabeth._ Her arm began to ache. "The only answer that _fits _is that this caller was telling the truth and knows where Jo is!"

Sei sighed. "Meg, please be reasonable. What possible reason would a RAPT employee have to contact you?" She shook her head slowly. "There is no solid reason, other than this woman's word, for us to believe that she may be telling the truth."

The red-head clenched her teeth, surveying the dent she had made in the wall. "There is no reason she wasn't!"

"Then let me ask you this. Even if this person _was _a RAPT employee, and even if they _did _have Jo, why would she tell us?" Sei's look was kind, benign. Sisterly, calm… "Please look at this logically, Meg. I know you miss Jo very much, but you need to accept it. She's gone."

Meg's insides seemed to turn to lead. "Sei, please… let me do this. I need to be certain." Meg's vision blurred and she wiped her eyes savagely. "What have we got to lose, Sei?"

The Bai-Lan leader stared at her for a long, long moment.

"Go then, Meg. Be back before sunrise – we need your presence in the escort." Sei leaned back, rubbing her temples. "Get going before I change my mind."

* * *

Even at that late hour of the night, Tokyo station was still packed with travellers, party-addicts and late-night shoppers. Beggars were holed up in nearly every nook of the vast building, clustered together to ward of the night's chill. Meg shivered herself, pulling the only clean jacket she had closer to her. The buckle hanging off the jacket's armoured shoulder thumped rhythmically against her ribs and arm, the orange fur tickling her neck.

It was strangely fitting that it was Jo's coat that she wore this night.

Trains passed quickly and efficiently though the station, vanishing into the night with their human cargo. Meg watched a train screech past silently, mindful of the creature that had forced an Osakan train to derail almost six years back. Should another RAPT creation be set upon the train network, then history would repeat itself… she shook her head to clear it of thoughts of the cycle. Monsters of RAPT origin were getting fewer and farther between as the years went on. Perhaps the Hanshin taskforce really was cutting RAPT down to size…

Perhaps it would only have been a matter of time before Jo had been located…

Meg excused herself countless times as she wove her way through the crowds still packing the train station, occasionally looking up to stare at the nearest clock.

_4:15 am. She said to hurry though… _Meg squeezed between two large men, hastily apologising to them when they called out in anger, but unable to allow herself to look back. The storage lockers were located on the far side of the station from where she had entered, and she hadn't been expecting crowds like these.

As a Hanshin police officer eyed her up and down warily when she passed him, Meg was suddenly glad that she had worn Jo's large, concealing coat. The officer might have been a little alarmed had he seen the twin Desert Eagles holstered at her hips. Being arrested would have been a delay she was unable to afford. She could just _hear _Sei's 'I told you so'…

"_The next train will leave in… 3 minutes from platform… 10. If you are travelling to… Kyoto, please be ready to board." _

Meg hurried past the boarding platform, ignoring the electronic informer and the curses of the travellers she pushed past. She didn't have time for this, she needed to get the information and go before somebody else got to it. Before RAPT removed all traces…!

The door to the storage room, she learned quickly, was guarded by the 'menacing' employees of the train company. Ormicon ran the trains in Japan these days, ever since RAPT had relinquished the stranglehold it had on the city's transport system. While she commended the company for running its trains on time, she hardly thought they employed the highest quality guards. As she quickly approached the locker area's door, an acne-splattered young man moved to block her entrance, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Ma'am, do you have your reclaiming ticket with you?" he asked in a voice nearly about to break. His face looked red raw from a shave he obviously didn't need and his acne…

Somehow, this boy made her feel like she was dealing with Kyohei Tachibana once more.

Must have been the voice.

She paused, pretending to search her pockets quickly for her 'ticket'. She looked up again, plastering an apologetic look on her face and the most winning smile she had ever tried. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid I've managed to lose my ticket!" She added an airy giggle – just for effect.

It worked like a charm, Meg noted while hiding a smirk. The boy uncrossed his arms, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Ma'am, I'm under orders –"

Meg pressed forwards, smiling sweetly.

"Please, couldn't you, you know, bend the rules for me? Just once?" She considered grabbing his hand, but decided against it. No need to go over the top, it would become too obvious…

He smiled down at her, his braces reflecting the light from the station's many neon signs. "Well, I suppose I could, just this once…"

She beamed at him. "Thankyou sir! You won't be regretting this any time soon!"

_I'm so sweet I'm giving myself cavities… _she thought through clenched teeth as the 'guard' stood aside and opened the locker room's door with a quick swipe of his card. She swept past him, finally allowing her smile to fall from her face and a look of seriousness to replace it as she scanned the lockers around her.

_107, 107, 107… _she heard the door swing shut behind her, but otherwise paid no attention. _107\. _Her heart seemed to pound the number out, again and again, her brain repeating it over and over.

_97, 98, 99… _Her eyes grazed over the numbers, adrenaline soaking every fibre of her body. Her breath came quickly, her heart pounded, sweat seemed to make her hands clammy through her tan gloves.

_107\. _Meg's vision fixed on the locker bearing the number, a tremor running through her violently. Pressing her hands up against the cool blue plastic of the storage locker, Meg surveyed the electronic lock that barred her from accessing the information she needed so _badly… _She stared at the lock in consternation. All she had to do was enter the correct code into the device and the door would open on its own. It seemed simple enough… only that she had no idea of what this number actually _was. _God only knew how much time she had before some random guy took her next piece of evidence and thought it was another bounty…!

"Screw this," she growled, drawing her right Desert Eagle from its holster and levelling it at the electronic lock. Closing her eyes, she muttered a short and quick prayer to God that she wouldn't fuck everything up, she squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out in the tiny, confined space, and there was a muffled curse from outside. Panicking, Meg aimed for the keypad by the door, firing a flurry of shots into the electronics. It sparked and exploded, a foul, stinging smoke beginning to fill the air. Meg swore, holstering her gun before wrenching the door of the locker open, covering her mouth with her sleeve to protect her from the acrid smoke.

Meg groaned. Inside, there had to be hundreds of paper cuttings – all of different sizes and shapes.

"You have _got _to be joking!" she gasped as she began to sort quickly through the cuttings. The guard was banging on the door, demanding to know what was going on – Meg froze as the door seemed to scream, watching in horror as it began to slowly lift up. She could see feet – a lot of them – clustered around the door, the voices confused and distorted. Clenching her teeth, Meg eyed the clippings. Finally, she saw something – something different, but obscured by the many paper cuttings.

_A photo? _Meg snatched it from the bottom of the locker. It was of the manikin suspended over the entrance to the anarchy district… The door squealed again, and Meg whirled around, looking desperately for a way out. Above her, an air duct… it beckoned to her welcomingly.

_So cliché… _Meg groaned again, took one last look into the busted locker, and vacated the storage facilities.

* * *

The key-coded door screeched in his ears as finally it was lifted high enough for sergeant Kirk Wilder to roll underneath the steel plates and into the gas-filled room. Something clicked shut, and Wilder swore profusely.

"Hands up, bitch!" he roared into the bitter smoke, his eyes beginning to water. There was no reply, no sound from within the locker room. Wilder looked around desperately, noting that only one locker was open – 107 – and that there was no sign of the thief. Apparently it had been that suspicious-looking red-head he had so nearly stopped… Paper clipping seemed to be all over the floor.

Wilder cursed again, holstering his gun and reaching for his radio. As he switched it onto a new, less-used frequency, he scooped up a handful of the paper-cuttings. Death notices. Births. Funerals.

_What the hell?_

"Get me Maria," Wilder spat into the radio, to the unknown man at the other side. "We missed the bitch."

* * *

Meg breathed a sigh of relief as she slumped into the back of the taxi, tiredly telling the driver,

"Shibuya. As close to it as you can get me."

The driver peered at her from his rear-vision mirror. "You sure about that, lass? The anarchy district is no place for a pretty thing like yourself."

The red-head smiled wearily. "I'm looking for a friend, and somebody told me I should search there first."

He chortled as he pulled away from Tokyo station. "I don't know who you've been talking to, lass, but if she's anything like yourself, then perhaps you'd be better off searching the nightclubs before heading into a dangerous place like that." He glanced at her again from his mirror. "That's where I used to look for my daughters, back in the day."

She allowed herself to give him a smile. "Well, my friend was never really the safe type."

The taxi driver nodded understandingly before turning his attention back to the road. Meg watched him for a moment, and then dug the crumpled photo from her jacket's pocket. She smoothed it out with shaking hands, confirming once more that it was indeed the anarchy district's infamous manikin. Yes… it was. Meg's gut clenched as she flipped the photo over, reading the message once more.

_Shibuya is where mercenaries get ahead. _

Meg pursed her lips in thought, watching vacantly as the neon lights streamed by the window, slowly fading, fading, until there was only the occasional street lamp. Finally, the taxi began to slow as the driver encountered the first of the many blockades. She saw him smile apologetically from the mirror.

"Sorry lass – end of the line. Perhaps if you'd taken the train lines, it may have taken you closer…"

She smiled back, handing him a wad of yen. "Thankyou; it was further than I expected." Had it been up to her, she _would _have caught the train. She just had the Hanshin police force gathering en masse outside the locker room, she couldn't have just strolled out of the room as if nothing had happened!

She stepped out of the taxi, listening to the sirens screaming in the distance. It wasn't infeasible it was for the chaos she herself had caused… Her breath misted out before her, the night seeming quiet and still for the bustling city of Tokyo.

_Shibuya is where mercenaries get ahead. _

Meg began to walk, ignoring the steady throb of her arm, ignoring the rattle in her lungs from the toxic smoke, ignoring the blisters on her feet. She just walked, her mind fixed on one location. A number teenagers walked through the slums, the neon signs to nightclubs flashing fitfully in the darkness ahead of her. The music was loud and blaring, and for once, Meg didn't feel like going in an partying with them. Minutes passed – for all Meg cared, hours had.

_Shibuya…_

She crossed the train tracks where the Shibuya track ended. The area seemed to be made of rubble, of building that had been knocked down, debris spread out like a carpet, like living land masses.

_Where mercenaries get…_

Get what? Get paid? Get their first bounty? Get hired out?

_Ahead… _Meg stared up at the manikin suspended high over the ground. _That's what mercenaries get. _She trudged on, the wind gusting through the dead appendage of Tokyo. Shibuya couldn't even be cut away – it was like a tumour of the city…

_Shibuya is where mercenaries get ahead. _

She halted, staring up at the doll. Something was… different. The wind picked up again, tangling Meg's red hair. Light was beginning to streak the night sky…

_Ahead. A… head. _

Meg stared at the manikin's mangled head. A knife protruded from between the two dead eyes. Meg's eyes followed the throw's path, searching hungrily for the slightest _chance _that she might be right. Her sight rested on an old, abandoned building across from the anarchy district, and her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

_Bingo._ She felt herself smirk slightly, and jogged across the road to the building. First floor, if she was right. First floor. The door to the building had long since been nailed shut, so she climbed quickly through the shattered window to the right. Perhaps her informant had climbed through here not so long ago, clearing the path for her… the building was freezing and quiet.

Meg fished around in her pocket for her lighter, striking it up and allowing the weak flame to shed some light on the mangled interior. An old bar, shattered glass all over the floor, dust coating the tables and chairs in thick rubble – this place, she thought to herself, had not been inhabited in at least five years…

Her roving eyes located the stairwell, and she carefully picked her way over to them and set a foot on the first step. It creaked dangerously, but Meg only shrugged. It would support her weight easily, despite its protest otherwise. The steps were steep, though, as they always were in those older types of buildings, and Meg had to grip the side rail to keep herself balanced properly as she made her way as fast as possible up the stairs.

Adrenaline pumped through her again, for one final time that night. She was so close – every moment felt like agony, like a thousand knives were stabbing her through the heart, the stomach…

There was only one door on the next floor, and confidently, Meg pushed it open. On a newly dusted table, easily visible in the moonlight, was another tan envelope, the same as the very first. For Meg, the world seemed to slow. Her heart pounded in her ears powerfully as she took a step towards the goal. The prize. Everything she had hoped for, everything she had wanted. She hesitated in reaching out a hand, suddenly uncertain of herself.

Five whole years of waiting. Of vain hope. Of agony.

Meg was as ready as she was ever going to get, damn it. With a hunger that almost bewildered her, she tore open the package, and documents and photos spilled out to the table. Meg's eyes drank in the contents, blurring slightly with tears.

It was the visage of a drugged and beaten woman, blood dripping down her face, matting her silver hair. Shoulders hunched and hands bound above her, the woman's eyes were dulled and seemed to beg her for something – perhaps salvation. Meg's heart contracted painfully. Perhaps the woman wished for death, after all this time, all these years. Her eyes took in every detail – the fact it was a still shot from a video, the date in the corner telling her it was only a week ago, the bone in her leg snapped and jutting through her skin…

The injuries were not what tore Meg up, however.

What tore Meg up was that in the photo, Maria was running her tongue over Jo's cheek, her hand buried inside Jo's shirt.

_Oh god, Jo…_

Outside the wrecked building, dawn was breaking.


	4. Proof Of Life

**Chapter Four: Proof of Life**

Meg's lips parted in horror; she had to bite down on her tongue hard enough to draw blood to stop her from crying out at the horrors presented in one gory photograph after another. Her hands trembled and the documents spilled back onto the table, staring back at her accusingly as she clutched her head and began to pant.

_Oh god… Jo… Jo…_

Her back brushed against the soot-blackened walls of the old hotel – Meg screamed and whirled about, hurling herself against it, feeling her face smash into the unforgiving barrier, beating her fists uselessly against it as she tried to drown her own pain out.

"_Why the hell do you keep fucking with me?" _she demanded the wall – RAPT, Jo – driving her fist deep into the dirty plaster. White powder showered to the ground, and Meg's breathing grew harsher. _"WHY?"_

_((the image of Maria gripping Jo by the hair as she slid her knife across the woman's throat, not even deep enough to maim, only for the sadistic pleasure-))_

The anguish in Meg's chest threatened to drown her as she sank to her knees, her fingernails scraping futilely down the walls. Her breath rasped in and out of her throat; she no longer had the control over her own body to stop, to breathe normally.

Five years. Five _fucking _years of agony. Of not knowing. Of being blissfully unaware of what _Jo _had been suffering. Of living the fucking _high life, _of taking what was Jo's and making it her own while the person who deserved the _most _suffered… _this_.

_((the image of Jo lying beaten and broken on the ground, her eyes dull and dazed – defeated.))_

Meg felt warmth blur in her eyes once more, her mouth felt sticky and thick with mucus and pain. She trembled, biting her lip hard to stop herself from screaming out, yelling, doing _anything. _With nothing else to do, Meg broke down and cried for her long lost friend.

"_J-Jo…" _

* * *

The morning sky was clear as Meg began the long treck home. The documents she should have been so overjoyed to get weighed heavily in her hands as she walked.

Proof of life. Proof that Jo still lived… it had been everything Meg had hoped for. The very _idea _that Jo might have survived that awful explosion had always intoxicated her. It would have been the final wonder Jo could have worked, the very thing that had made her immortal in Meg's eyes. Unstoppable, unbeatable and her saviour, a powerful force of nature itself.

Meg's throat tightened and she tilted her head back to stare at the sky, heedless of the people milling around her in the early morning light.

What truly shamed Meg was that deep down, she had hoped that Jo was in trouble, detained and not merely avoiding her like the plague. The notion that Meg could save Jo _herself – _show Jo exactly how far she had come, reverse their roles for one glorious moment. And when that moment came, Meg would do what Jo had never dared –

Her heart clenched painfully, and suddenly it was all she could do to hold back her tears.

She had gotten what she had wanted, she supposed. The harsh reality of Jo's circumstances was so very hard to swallow…

Still tasting that foul-tasting mucus that had built up in her throat from the locker room, Meg allowed herself to look down and began the long trudge towards the Bai-Lan aircraft.

_((Jo was screaming as the RAPT guard broke each and every one of her fingers-))_

Meg clenched her teeth and stared at the ground, clasping the photos to her chest protectively; she was afraid the wind would pick up and blow them away.

_No matter what, they are proof of your life… of your existence… Jo. Nothing can take that away from me. _

Hours seemed to pass as Meg walked, her mind turning in circles – endless possibilities, changes, chances and events that may have turned out differently repeating in her head. Each time, the outcome was the same.

She was weak. She was pathetic.

_Fuck. To Jo, all I was ever good at was getting kidnapped. To Maria, I was a trophy, nothing better than a sex toy. _

Her jaw clenched so tightly she could almost feel her teeth cracking.

_Am I really worth the oxygen I breathe? _

Meg always came to that same unmistakable conclusion, no matter how she looked at it. No matter how she twisted and turned, no matter how she pleaded with herself to be reasonable, to believe in her own worth as Sei, Amy, _Jo _always had.

The conclusion was _no._

* * *

It only took Meg an hour to retrace her steps back to the airship, bemused to see that already the place was buzzing with preparation for the coming task. She didn't bother with the hellos, the irritated look that Amy gave her telling her it was best to keep her mouth shut before any awkward questions were asked about her various 'jobs' last night.

She smiled ruefully.

_First a mimic, then a pipe-bomb, RAPT contacts me and I find __these_Meg's arms tightened around the yellow envelope, her smile fading as the vivid contents reawakened in her imagination. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to pre-empt any tears and jogged off to her room, the envelope tucked securely under her arm.

There was no point in showing the photos to Sei just yet. One look at the Bai-Lan leader had told her that Sei would be up to her eyeballs in paperwork and planning for the rest of the day. The time for revelations would come. Eventually.

Meg's stomach gave a sickening jolt as she eased herself into her room, quickly doing a silent appraisal of her room's interior and deciding that nothing was out of place. Even if that woman's source had gotten in here, there were still secure locations in the place that she doubted even Amy knew about just yet.

_Amy, the dirty little sneak who won't take bribes… _Meg frowned, taking the envelope from under her arm and stared down at it, before she shook her head violently to clear her mind. The images of hate and fear – the images that Meg longed to rid herself of, only knew she had to face.

_Proof of life._

Her lips tightened, and she quickly lifted the corner of her mattress and stuffed the valuable documents under there. Not exactly secure, so to speak, but it'd do until that damned escort mission was over and done with. She blinked quickly as agony ruled her for a moment, and then tried to steel her will. Jo would have wanted it this way; Meg tried so hard to forget all the times Jo had blown her mission objectives to save her weakling partner's behind…

Sighing, Meg allowed herself to shrug out of Jo's old jacket, dumping the heavy material to her bed and opening her cupboard door. She quickly grabbed the nearest coat from the hangers – Hachi had been doing some late-night laundry, it seemed – and zipped up her regular jacket. Her throat burned as she stared at herself in the tiny mirror. A thin and pale face, a hairline scar running from her temple back into her hair. Her upper arm was still wrapped with filthy bandages-

Meg turned away from the reflection abruptly, clenching her hand into a fist as her eyes were drawn, as if magnetised, to the mattress.

_Time to go, Jo… I'll be back soon._

* * *

Sei stared Meg up and down as she slid into the quietly buzzing command room of the _Elizabeth_, pressing herself unobtrusively against the wall. A Bai-Lan squad member gave her a look before nodding to her, his face obscured by the visor of his black helmet. He seemed to be armoured to the teeth, and full of male arrogance. She sighed and directed her gaze to the dark haired woman in front of the crowd of soldiers, quietly observing the suits that were standing with her.

Most likely the president's lackeys, here to make sure everything went as smoothly as damn well possible. Made her wonder what the president was afraid of, to hire this kind of security… Had she known anything about Ormicon, she might have made a list of possible hunters who were after the cashed-up rabbit. Drug kingpins, the Yakuza, terrorists, competitors, RAPT…

The large screen above Sei's head flickered from the Bai-Lan symbol to a picture of a thin and seedy looking man. Various stats began to list beside the picture – age, previous arrests in Tokyo…

Sei's voice cut across the general hubbub, silencing her 'troops' with a practiced ease that made Meg wonder when Sei had changed so much. The Bai-Lan leader waited quietly for the hubbub to fade before motioning to the screen.

"Edward Kruegar. Age thirty-two, male, Caucasian with dark hair. Distinctive features include an acid burn on the left side of his face, costing him his left eye. He was known to the Hanshin's predecessors as a menace to society, and was apprehended some ten years ago. RAPT, as many of you know, disintegrated five years ago, but the total eradication of the group is yet to be achieved. As such, Kruegar was not released from his hidden prison until early this month."

The screen changed, showing a bird's eye view of a square, cement building.

"Ormicon headquarters – point 'A' in our plan. The company is of high repute, dealing in matters of military nature. As such, many of the projects are quite… sensitive." Sei's dark blue eyes met Meg's for an instant before she continued. "Bai-Lan's role in escorting Ormicon's president, Mr. Morholt, to the army's base is integral to the safety of this information."

The image of a balding, overweight man wearing a suit flickered on screen.

"Forty-eight hours ago, Mr. Morholt received a telephone call from Kruegar telling him of the intent to capture and extract the delicate information from him forcibly. The Hanshin police force was immediately contacted, but as of yet, no trace has been found of Kruegar."

A map of Tokyo – with a highlighted and winding route – replaced the visage of Morholt. Meg's eyes drank in the details as she unconsciously began to drum her fingers on the metal wall beside her.

"Bai-Lan's function in this mission is simple – protect the president at all costs. That is our role. That is our _only _role. After the president arrives at the army base, we will pull back and allow the military's security to take over the convoy. Any who disobey this order will be shot on sight."

The first point of the route was highlighted, rapid writing spreading across the screen.

"We will meet the convoy at the Ormicon headquarters. From there, we escort them along this route, as shown. Five squadrons will be accompanying the cars as a visible guard and as a warning. Another three squads have already been dispatched and are in position as snipers. Finally, my own agent will be riding in the car along with Mr. Morholt."

Meg's breath caught as Sei's eyes caught her own again. Swallowing her surprise, she nodded slowly as Sei turned away from her.

"Furthermore, we have received –"

Meg let Sei's voice wash over her consciousness, allowing her mind to wander as she kept the appearance of alertness.

_((blood splattered as the whip tore into flesh once more, Jo had long since passed out from the pain.))_

Her mind shied away from the images as her breath hissed out through her clenched teeth. The relentless, unforgiving images…

"-you are dismissed, soldiers, go to your posts and await the dispatch orders." Sei's voice held a note of finality to it – the briefing session was over, and now it was time for action. Meg started forwards, closing the distance between them quickly and giving the suits a measured look. Sei barely glanced up as she flicked the screen off. The redhead's jaw tightened as Bai-Lan soldiers brushed past her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded in a low voice, gesturing violently towards the blackened screen. Perhaps she may have been more prepared, had she been forewarned. But the woman would have still called her, still have given her that information and she'd have run off after it anyway…

The Chinese woman's eyes finally locked on hers. "Meg. This is an extremely sensitive job – both in how we operate it _and _the information we are required to protect. I chose you because I have faith in your potential."

Meg's anger slowed to a simmer, though she longed to lash out at somebody, anybody. "How much _haven't _we been told here?"

Sei's lips twitched. "Have a little faith in Bai-Lan, just as I have faith in you."

The mercenary nodded curtly at the two suited men and turned on her heel before jogging down _Elizabeth's _hall towards the hanger. Sei was in one of her more enigmatic moods again.

_Damned Sei and her damned organization._

* * *

Mr. Shin cleared his throat as the command room emptied, staring after the angry redhead with a blank face. The Bai-Lan leader was rubbing her temples, cursing softly under her breath.

"So Mitarai is the one to ride with our president?" His comrade, Mr. Zuru asked slowly. Zuru, Shin had been told, hailed from the warring city-states of South Africa. "Forgive me for saying, my lady, but I fear for the president's safety."

Shin nodded in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest. Meg Mitarai was somewhat notorious in Tokyo's underbelly for being too quick to kill, leading to too many mistakes. Too many of her charges had died – it was best to let her think that was bothering them about Mitarai's presence. It was no skin off his nose. Perhaps it would even benefit them.

"I am aware of her past mistakes, Mr. Zuru. I am her employer, after all." Sei's slight smirk was still on her mouth, and she turned to leave. "Meg will get the job done. Like I said to her – have a little faith in Bai-Lan. Your information will be safe."

Shin drew a wad of tobacco from his breast pocket and popped it into his mouth, waiting for Zuru to respond. Mitarai was making the goddamn situation curly again, just by her damn presence.

_Fuck._

The quiet South African finally nodded. "Very well, my lady."

Shin grinned though his tobacco. "So long as the bitch keeps her nose clean and out of the info, we're all good with this shit."

* * *

The hanger was packed with the escort squads, grouping in squads and organizing the details of their assigned missions, going over them, mocking one another. Jango R gleamed a malicious red in the fluorescent lighting. Meg scanned the crowd, searching out Amy's mousy-brown curls in the sea of helmets and visors. She was bobbing up and down as if in excitement, energetically claiming responsibility for the better half of the mission's planning. Meg shrugged and pushed her way through the crowd, rapping Amy quickly on the back of the head. The teenager turned and scowled at her, colour flushing her cheeks.

"What do _you_-" the hacker started to demand before Meg held up one gloved hand, fighting the ache in her shoulder as it spiked up her arm.

"I need to speak to you after the mission. It's urgent."

Amy's brown eyes widened a fraction before she nodded. The redhead clapped her on the shoulder and shoved her way back towards the warm metal walls of the airship. As she pressed her back against it, she felt the soft vibration of the _Elizabeth's _engines as they were steadily propelled towards the drop-off point outside Ormicon's headquarters.

Meg checked the modified Desert Eagles, checking the magazine and wiping the muzzle free of the Shibuya dust, frowning in thought. Jo's guns had been lost along with her – perhaps left near the melted and twisted metal hulk that had been Jango. Either way, they had never been recovered from RAPT's ruins. Nothing much had ever been recovered from RAPT's ruins…

_How did you survive that blast, Jo? Not the way Sei did… _Sei still carried the horrific burns under her clothes, she had barely survived the blast even in Jango's cockpit… Meg shook her head angrily to free herself of the buzzing, useless thoughts. There would be time…

Her gut clenched painfully as the whole airship lurched to the ground.

At least, she hoped there would be. With a final polish of her guns' frames, Meg crossed the metal floors as Sei appeared, flanked by the two Ormicon suits. Sei jerked her hand for Meg to fall into place behind her.

"Move into position!" The Chinese woman barked at the soldiers already scrambling towards her. Meg watched the man who had been standing next to her during briefing slide into place behind her – silver hair gleamed in the fluorescent lighting and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. He gave her a lazy salute and a smirk.

She turned away from him, trying to drive the flurry of gore from her mind. There was no _need _for him to remind her of Jo… She forced her attention back onto Sei, the throb in her arm echoing her pounding heart.

"Assume formation as soon as the hatch opens. Do not – I repeat, _do not – _enter Ormicon territory. We are bodyguards and escorts _only." _Sei's voice was hard. Meg felt herself swallow.

"If Kruegar appears during the trail from point A to B, you boys will know what to do. If an attack occurs after we reach point B, then it is the army's problem. Enter the base and you will be shot on sight." A chorus of half-hearted sniggers followed her statements, and Sei gave the signal for the operators overhead to lower the floor hatch. Meg caught the woman's eye as the door began to grind open, gears whirling and machines straining in her ears.

"Meg. Wait here." Sei's voice was soft, almost droned out by the machines. Meg inclined her head a fraction, watching the Bai-Lan soldiers pour out of the hatch as soon as it was wide enough. A number of them barely brushed past her, the slightest touch making her shoulder burn. She bit her lip hard.

As the final man left the hanger, Sei turned her dark eyes onto Meg again. The suits stared at her impassively from behind their dark glasses.

"Follow me." Sei set off at a brisk pace – only five years ago she had been told she may not ever walk again. Meg let herself scowl as the four of them descended the ramp, the harsh, cold wind whipping her hair from her face. The Bai-Lan troops had assumed formation around the impossibly long row of cars and jeeps, all parked in the vicinity of Ormicon's large gate.

The redhead surveyed the building dispassionately. There was simply no word to describe it, other than 'ugly'. A flat, grey, cement building that rose high into the sky, chimneys belching out clouds of water vapour and gas into the atmosphere, enveloping the top of the building in a haze. In the distance she could see the high-rising towers of Tokyo. She sighed. The army base, she knew, was located on the other side of the city. One hell of a drive.

"Now, Meg. You will meet President Morholt and sit in the car with him. You will keep on your toes – Kruegar is known to carry out his threats." Sei turned back to the gates. "Any moment now…"

As if on cue, the large, iron gates began to screech open. Meg's eyes narrowed and she picked out a small delegation of men in suits and a demure secretary with long, light blue hair and a pair of reading glasses. The secretary held a small briefcase, but otherwise the party went empty handed.

Sei nodded to her and walked forwards, the suits and finally Meg trailing behind her as she walked down the _Elizabeth's _ramp to greet the President and his retainers. Morholt was instantly recognizable – he was as balding and as sleazy looking as the picture Sei had presented that morning was. As they neared, Sei gave Morholt a bow as reintroduced herself.

"You are well aware of the route, Mr. President?" she questioned in a low voice, the wind freeing some of her dark hair as another icy gust hit them.

Morholt gave them a crooked smile. "I am not an idiot, my lady. I have reviewed the plans and Miss Ketsu finds them adequate."

The secretary looked up at the mention of her name, meek brown eyes grazing over Meg before turning to Sei.

"Yes… they were quite fine," the woman said softly, hesitantly. Meg's eyes narrowed again as she scanned the woman up and down.

_Ketsu… Ketsu… Yama Ketsu?_

Meg's jaw felt like it hit the pavement.

"_Yoko _Ketsu?" she blurted before she could stop herself – or consider the consequences. Yoko, as in the girl from the Academy? Yoko, who she had saved?

_((Yoko smiled up at Meg as she presented the bouquet of flowers she'd picked up on the way to the hospital-))_

Yoko's eyes met Meg's own, just as they had long ago. No recognition kindled in them. A blush suffused Meg's cheeks and she abruptly turned away from the blue-haired woman. So Yoko did not remember her… Meg swallowed.

"I'm sorry… but who-" Yoko started, but Meg lurched forwards and grabbed Morholt's hand in a quick handshake.

_Oh damn, if she figures out who I am she might start asking questions I don't want to answer…_

Sei gave her a confused, sidelong look. "Mr. President, this is Me-"

"We are _so _running late, no time for introductions!" Meg gave a fake laugh and nearly slapped her forehead as she spun on her heels.

_Geeze, can I look any more sus?_

She slid into the back seat of the armoured jeep and patted the seat next to her, smiling at the greasy president as he took the briefcase from Yoko. The blue-haired woman was frowning in Meg's general direction, seeming deeply lost in thought as Morholt lowered himself into the seat next to Meg. He nodded to her, the car's interior lights gleaming off his bald scalp. No doubt, the man was more used to riding in a limousine than the rough and ready jeep Bai-Lan favoured for escort missions. She shrugged her herself, briefly scanning the interior. But really, they should have cleaned out the jeep for once.

Sei was really letting her forces go.

Carefully avoiding looking at Yoko, Meg scanned the interior. It was battered and dusty, but everything looked in order. She forced herself to relax as the jeep's engine revved to life, the protective convoy beginning to move off slowly. The redhead put the sight of the ugly concrete building behind her, settling for watching out the window. There was truly little chance that Kruegar would get through the barriers. Bai-Lan was no pushover, and was damned near invincible when they got serious about a mission. Around the central group of vehicles, at least a squad were mounted on scooters and forming a weaving, dodging outer guard.

Mr. Morholt settled himself back in his seat, staring at the roof. For a man who believed his life was in danger, he looked quite bored. Meg ignored him, her eyes fixing on the startled looks the citizens of Tokyo city were giving the convoy. No other vehicles were on the road, Meg noted carefully. She supposed Bai-Lan had received clearance from the Hanshin police force to activate the blockades halting traffic. That or the damned hacker was up to her usual tricks. Both seemed likely to her.

Meg concluded her scanning quickly before leaning back in satisfaction. The escort was airtight. Nothing short of an A-bomb could get past the guard! Coupled with the snipers above them… Meg felt herself smirk. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could take what she had discovered this morning to Sei. Her hand tightened into a fist, pain flashing though her shoulder. She ignored it, just as she ignored the tugging of sleep at the corner of her mind. She hardly had time to take a nap, not here. Not _now._

They sat in silence, their surroundings streaming past them as the convoy sped through Japan's capital. Meg personally approved of the speed at which they were moving. There was really no need for Mr. Morholt to be vulnerable longer than what was needed.

It was then that Mr. Morholt turned to her, his bald head gleaming from sweat, his mouth opening to form one word.

"Mitarai-"

The rest was lost in a monstrous roar as the jeep in front of them exploded.

* * *

Sei's dark eyes – like with every mission Bai-Lan took these days – were glued to the screen. Waiting. Watching for even the slightest hint that something might be wrong. Perhaps it was an side affect of losing her best and brightest soldier to death – maybe it was that since that day, Sei felt all too mortal.

Her scarred left hand gripped the armrest of the command chair, her fingernails digging into the padding as she tried not to gnaw on her lower lip. Directly before her, Amy lounged in a similar chair, occasionally tapping the large keyboard in front of her to execute a command for the mission. She heard the girl yawn loudly and obnoxiously; no doubt she believed such menial tasks were below her level, Sei thought with a twisted smile.

Nana and Hachi, the assistant _neko_ robots Sei had inherited from Don Laoban after he had passed away, remained busy at the tasks Sei had set for them. They monitored the progress and the slightest change within the convoy. Knowing every noise that was made in the jeep made quite a difference in assuaging Sei's frayed nerves. In a job like hers, it felt nice to be in control at least a _little _bit.

Finally, the two contacts of Mr. Morholt's were stood off to the side, obviously not a part of the Bai-Lan control team but an unmistakable presence within the command room. The Bai-Lan leader turned her attention back to the satellite feed. By some standards, the convoy seemed like overkill. To Sei, nothing was better than peace of mind however she could get it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Shin grind the used butt of a cigarette beneath his heel. Her teeth clenched in spite of herself. She had enough complaints from the maintenance teams as it was…

The convoy had nearly made it three quarters of the way to the final checkpoint when the satellite image being fed to the airship flickered fitfully before cutting off. Sei watched Nana and Hachi both slump forwards in their chairs – the hair rose on the back of her neck, cold and prickling.

_What was going on here? _Sei's eyes narrowed, her fingernails digging into her palms as she waited for Bai-Lan's finest technician to get the feed back online.

"What the-" Amy shot upright, her fingers already reaching for the large keyboard in order to restore the images.

The weasel-like man, Mr. Shin, whirled around. His hands were like talons, his eyes bulging. Terror's cold, painful hand seemed to snatch her heart away, leaving her hollow.

_What the hell does he know? _The thought blurred through her mind as she watched him take a step towards where Amy sat. Everything seemed to blur, seemed to go in slow motion.

Amy turned, her brown eyes open in shock as her fingers paused over the keyboard as the feed to the convoy was suddenly beginning to be re-established. The picture was still a little fuzzy for some reason, perhaps somebody had tampered with the information.

"How did you-?" Sei began to demand sharply, if Amy had been able to do this from, the beginning –

The young technician scowled up at Sei.

"It wasn't _me._" To anybody else, it would have sounded petulant. To the Bai-Lan leader, it spelt trouble. Somebody had planned this all. Somebody – Kruegar surely couldn't have done all of this on his own, the man had very little computing background. Compared to Amy, it was nothing…

The Bai-Lan leader's stomach felt like it had been filled with lead as the images gained clarity.

"You have got to be _fucking kidding me," _Mr. Shin bellowed as he saw what had happened to the entire _convoy. _

Or rather, where the convoy was meant to be – black smoke was beginning to blot out everything, feed by the roaring flames that was devouring the armoured cars. Sei's mouth went dry, her mind almost blanking. How could such a thing have happened so suddenly? How had Kruegar gotten past her men? _How? _

Sei surged to her feet, swearing.

"Amy! Get Meg on the line!" Her voice cracked out like a whip, brooking no nonsense or arguments.

"What do you think I've been trying to do, Sei?" Amy sounded a little hoarse for a moment – Sei doubted she was used to being caught without the aid of her computers. An unpleasant surprise for the entire operation indeed.

Sei paused, her eyes narrowed. "You can't reach her then?"

Amy seemed to be unable to meet her leader's eyes. Her fingers began to slow on the keyboard. "There's no response from Meg's end. That could mean a lot of things."

Sei felt her throat close over. Meg… she couldn't believe it. All eyes in the command room were on her, awaiting orders. Mr. Shin and Mr. Zuru were already out the door. She didn't know what they expected to achieve. It was not too late for their president.

_Damn it, I'm not losing another of my best. I promised myself that._

"Bring in the reinforcements. Kruegar's objective may not yet be reached yet. Ready the snipers… We'll deal with Meg later." As much as it grated against her, Sei had a mission to complete. She just hoped that in the end she wasn't too late.

* * *

Meg jerked to awareness, her bangs matted and stuck to her face from the blood from a slash in her scalp. The cement was hard, rough against her cheek as she tried to prop herself up on her elbows, the shallow gasps of air burning with toxic-tasting smoke as the world around her burned. Meg frowned as she felt blood dripping down her chin, and a dull pain throbbing over her right eye. She clenched her teeth, staring around her with her good eye, trying to discern what the blazes had just happened. The last thing she'd remembered was Morholt's lips forming her name, looking as if he wished to tell her something.

Blood splattered to the ground as Meg began to cough, pain slicing through her ribs as she struggled to stop. The explosion – she was certain that was what had happened – had been a violent one. The flames around her felt as if they were scorching her skin, burning it even from the safe distance she stayed, and Meg pushed herself unsteadily to her feet, her gloved fingers scraping on the scorched concrete. Everything spun dizzyingly for a moment, a sickening mix of black smoke, charred metal and the ever-increasing flames around her. She cradled her head in her hands, rubbing her temples.

"I don't have time for this," she grunted, trying to force her mind to right itself.

After a few moments, Meg's head was cleared enough for her to begin to assess the situation. If she spent much longer in the wreckage, she'd pass out from all the smoke – or just burn to death. Both didn't really serve her purposes. The broken bodies of the Bai-Lan soldiers who had been serving as the escort were strewn about on the ground around her, unmoving. In some cases, they were burning. The smell of cooking flesh was enough to make Meg gag, even after these five years…

Her good eye watering from the putrid smoke, she hectically scanned the inferno around her. There had to be some sign of the people Sei had charged her to protect, there just had to be… Her jaw clenched hard as she realised that both Yoko and Morholt were gone. They weren't _there. _A good thing or a bad thing, Meg wasn't quite certain. On one hand, Sei wouldn't give her the sack. On the other, Kruegar might have Morholt already.

The latter was confirmed by a shriek of agony from somewhere deeper in the flaming ruins, almost swept away by hot winds and the roar of the fire as it consumed the bodies of the Bai-Lan soldiers.

Meg's one eye narrowed as she carefully drew one of her modified Desert Eagles from her holsters, and the redhead moved slowly into the heart of the raging fire. Windborne embers scorched her face as she stepped around the twisted metal shell that had been the jeep she had been riding in, and her nostrils could detect the smell of burning hair as she forced her way past the burning remains of a motorbike. The rider had been granted a quick death – he'd been impaled on a jagged piece of metal after the initial blast.

Giving up on her watering eye, Meg drew the goggles hanging around her throat up and over her eyes. The cut over her right eye stung, but it allowed her to see without being blinded by smoke. Her throat felt raw, her brain sickly and sluggish. She knew enough about the dangers of smoke inhalation to know she had to get out – fast. She jerked to the side as flames surged anew to her new blindside.

She didn't have to go far to find Kruegar's little hiding spot – he must have thought himself safe with all the Bai-Lan escort gone. Meg took a sharp intake of breath as she ducked back around a pile of burning metal and bodies, immediately regretting it as pain stabbed into her ribs. It was getting harder and harder to breathe now, and not just because of the damage to her side.

_Finish it, _the ghostly voice that seemed to belong to Jo whispered in her head. Meg nodded to herself, fully agreeing with her Inner Jo.

It was time to end this silly charade.

Kruegar was laughing cruelly as Meg watched him haul Morholt up by the front of his shirt, pressing the muzzle of the revolver he carried to the corner of Morholt's jaw. Sprawled before them was Yoko Ketsu, her blue hair down and wild around her face as she watched on in horror. The slick man Meg had been asked to defend babbled meaninglessly in terror, his eyes wide and rolling back into his skull. Meg could practically taste the man's terror as Kruegar pressed the trigger.

No shot rang out.

Kruegar bellowed with laughter as Morholt's knees gave out, sending the man sprawling into the hot embers. The president tried to roll away from the burning ashes – Kruegar's iron-shod boot landed squarely at the base of his ribs, effectively trapping the man.

"Guess you got lucky, old man Morholt." The RAPT prisoner cracked an uneven grin, the acid burns on his face stretching grotesquely. "Next time the roulette goes round, will it hold out?" That seemed immensely funny to Kruegar, as he broke off into a fit of gasping, howling laughter. He spun the cylinder with a thumb lazily, cocking the hammer and aiming squarely for Morholt's scrunched, terrified face.

_Do it, _the voice was cold in Meg's mind. _No need to extend this more than you have to. _

Wordlessly, Meg stepped out from behind the heap of twisting metal, paying no heed to the disbelieving expression on Yoko's face, the sob of relief from Morholt. A single shot rang out, striking flesh and bone.

Kruegar shuddered on his feet, blood rolling down his face from the headshot. Meg watched him fall forwards and into the flames impassively, taking no real satisfaction from the man's death as he began to burn. It hadn't been her who had shot the man.

_Bai-Lan snipers? _Meg wondered, her mind growing a little fuzzy.

Her eyes darted towards where Yoko had crawled over to Morholt. It was getting harder and harder to focus now, her vision blurred, her breath hitching painfully. She dropped down to a crouch, her brain spinning sickly. Her joints no longer seemed to want to support her…

Meg's vision went dark, and she vaguely heard Sei screaming for medics, the roar of engines and the feel of fresh wind on her face.

_Don't die here… _she told herself quietly as even the howl of the fire faded away into a dull, static-filled buzz. _Jo's counting on you. Those… damn… photos…_


	5. Fallout

 

Meg suffered a brief moment of disorientation as she regained consciousness, her world spinning sickeningly to her weary and sleep-gummed eyes. Well, she certainly hadn't expected to feel _this _much like shit when she woke up… She wasn't sure if she'd wake up at all, let alone in the _Elizabeth's _infirmary. She groaned softly, cradling her pounding skull in her hands, and then flinched away. A throbbing burn adorned her cheek, covered over by a short length of surgical tape. Meg frowned at this unexpected injury, forcing herself to relax as she quickly took stock of her wounds. Her ribs were aching, and it was still hard to breathe too deeply. Meg grimaced, noting the excessive amounts of gauze wrapped around her torso. The back of her throat felt scorched and raw, her arm was tightly bandaged again and cotton wrapped about her temples. The morning light pouring in through the sickbay window seemed excessively bright, the waves lapping against the Elizabeth's metal hull absurdly loud.

She carefully laid back against the pillows, scowling. Hell, it could have been worse. The last she recalled was passing out just after one of Bai-Lan's snipers shot down that head case Kruegar. Her jaw tightened, sending sparks of pain through her right temple. Sei had probably ordered her to be delivered here to get treated –

Meg's breath caught, her broken body somewhat forgotten, her eyes widening as memory hit her drug-hazed mind. _Sei. _The photos. The goddamn _photos. _She had to show the Bai-Lan leader _now _or it might be too late, Maria might have killed Jo –

The hair on the back of Meg's neck stood on end as the door to the infirmary cracked open, a pair of cautious brown eyes scanning the small, sterile room. They brightened somewhat as they noticed Meg was awake, and the door was pushed all the way open to reveal Amy. The girl virtually _bounced _into the room, a grin plastered all over her face. Meg eyed her as warily, a tension beginning in her temples. God, she hoped Amy wouldn't start with the lectures…

"So, I guess we aren't going to have to order the casket after all," the younger girl taunted quietly. "Though you kinda look half dead anyway."

Her eyes quickly glanced over Meg's many various injuries. The redhead felt her mouth quirk into a half-hearted smile.

"Shut it, brat," she admonished the teen, wishing that speaking didn't hurt her brain so much. Amy must have noticed her falter, because an unmistakable look of pity crossed the hacker's face.

Meg felt her body rebel even as she noticed the look; a coughing fit so violent shook her painful frame that it left the taste of thick mucus on her tongue. Her mouth twisted as the fit finally ended, leaving her head aching and her throat raw. Her ribs? They felt like they'd just cracked open again. Meg steadied herself with a shaking hand, appalled at her own weakness.

"Hm. We might have to restart you on oxygen…" Amy murmured thoughtfully, standing on the tips of her toes and looking down the hall. "I'll see if I can get the doctor to check you out again."

The mercenary's head jerked up in alarm. She didn't have time for some endless stream of doctors wanting to keep her confined to the infirmary. She propped herself up on her elbows, wincing.

"Amy, seriously, get me Sei or Nana or somebody-"

A pair of brown eyes narrowed as Amy turned back to Meg, staring at her suspiciously.

"…why?"

"For kicks and giggles, of course," Meg rested her head in her hands. "Just… in my room, there's an envelope wedged in between the mattresses. Grab my keycard and… Please, give it to Sei and tell her it…" she bit her lip. Amy had no idea of what had happened that night. The late-night caller, the photos... "Tell her it's the data from the pro-bono I begged her for."

Amy fiddled with the hem of her brown sleeve for a moment. "Sure. So long as _you _stay in bed for the rest of the day."

"Oh come _on-" _Meg protested before being silenced by Amy's warm hand over her mouth. It surprised her just long enough for the hacker to get a word in edge-wise.

"No bed rest, no deal." Amy's voice was unusually firm. "I'll get it and take it to Sei, but you gotta promise me that much. The alternative to you is that I sit here, all day, and make sure you stay couped up in here and damnit Sei will _never _get that envelope. After all, isn't it important?" Amy flashed a sly grin as she lowered her hand from Meg's mouth.

The mercenary stared at Amy with increasing ire, before easing herself back down against the pillows.

"Fine," Meg growled, crossing her arms over her aching chest lightly. "But make sure you _do _get that envelope to Sei, or I swear to God you're getting the noogie of a lifetime."

The smile Amy gave her was almost blinding in its brilliance, and the hacker flashed Meg a 'V for victory' as she literally bounded to the infirmary door.

"You can count on me, Mitarai!"

Meg sighed and forced herself to relax as the girl vanished from the medical centre. It was all okay, Amy would take the photos to Sei and Sei would help Meg get Jo back-

The mercenary jumped violently as Amy's head peered into the infirmary again, sharp pains shooting through her abused body at the sudden movement.

Irritation with the girl boiling over, Meg ground between clenched teeth, as levelly as she could, "What the hell are you doing, scaring me like that-"

Amy waved the woman's anger away with a negligent hand. "Meg? You got a visitor."

"That attitude of yours' has _really _got to- wait, a visitor?" Meg's mind ground to a shivery halt. No matter how hard she told herself it wasn't possible, her mind seemed to hold the hope that it would be _Jo _coming to see her. But that was impossible, wasn't it? Jo was locked up God only knew where at the hands of Maria. Mentally kicking herself for such foolish thoughts, Meg swallowed unsteadily. If it were Sei coming to see her, Amy would have just said so. Same with Leo…

If she'd thought her mind had frozen before, she was dead wrong. When she saw who was peering into the infirmary, lurking in the corridor behind the petite hacker-

_Oh my __god__ I'm screwed. _A fake grin forced its way onto her lips, a tick starting in her left cheek as her blue eyes darted wildly around. Escaping the infirmary would be pretty simple; it'd just mean she'd have to swim back to the pier - Amy's smirk. Amy's _goddamn smirk, _Meg realised with an internal groan. She'd promised to stay in bed-

The woman's pale blue hair gleamed in the morning light as she entered the room, fixing the position of her wire-rimmed glasses on her nose in a nervous gesture. Dressed in a black, tailored business suit, Yoko Ketsu was the image of success. If not for the square of gauze on her cheek, one would never have thought she had been involved in the Kruegar incident. Meg swallowed loudly as Yoko's dark eyes fell on her.

"Megumi Mitarai, I suppose." Yoko's voice was so soft Meg nearly didn't catch it. Amy seemed to take that as her cue to high-tail it out of there. Frankly, Meg didn't blame her. The mercenary squeezed the bridge of her nose, her entire body aching horribly.

_I seriously did not need this, Amy, _Meg silently told the hacker before turning her attention back to Yoko.

"That's me alright." Meg sighed in resignation, attempting to bury the probable cause for Yoko's visit in small-talk. "Is President Morholt doing fine?"

Yoko nodded, her face grim. "The president suffered only minor burns to his hands and knees. Although the mental trauma he now has will be with him for a while to come. It pleases him that Kruegar was neutralised."

Meg stared at her hands. "I see."

There was a long, heavy pause as Yoko took a seat next to Meg's hospital bed, tucking a few strands behind her ears as she did so.

"A mercenary for Bai-Lan these days, Ms. Mitarai." Yoko's soft voice was contemplative. "I'd heard of your exploits, but embarrassingly never made the connection. The Meg I remembered seemed hardly the kind to hunt RAPT." A slight smile quirked the edges of the pale woman's lips, as if the thought somehow amused her.

Meg frowned. "A lot has happened since you last saw me. A lot of things changed when RAPT fell."

Yoko's dark eyes watched her intently. "Of course. Five years is a long time. But…" The look seemed to harden in Yoko's gaze. "Why did you never bother to come back for me?"

Meg felt her stomach sour. How on earth could she explain her cowardly choice to Yoko? It had made sense at the time. It had made sense when Jo had eased her guilt. Meg stared at the pale scars and calluses on her hands, wishing to be anywhere other than where she was. Breaking down a RAPT prison? Easy. Aiding Takane in a drug bust? A walk in the park. Confessing that she was a scumbag to a person she screwed over? Not so simple.

Meg's mouth struggled to work for a moment before she croaked out, "Yoko… I-"

Yoko sighed, breaking eye contact. It was almost a relief to be out from under such an intense gaze.

"I suppose it hardly matters now, does it? What's done is done… the past is inerasable, and we both seem to have our share of demons."

The mercenary's eyes snapped up, and she frowned.

_The weak who are consumed by the demons inside themselves,_ Meg remembered Jo saying quietly. The smile the thought provoked was just a little bit twisted.

"I… I was just a stupid kid, back then," she heard herself telling Yoko. It came out haltingly at first, but as she forced herself on it became easier. "I had no idea of what the hell had gone down at that school. Or what I was supposed to react like. And instead of facing my promises and demons head on… I kept them from turning me insane by hiding from them." Meg's smile became slightly bitter. She hadn't been able to hide from Jo's fate, and perhaps as a result she truly _was _insane.

Yoko nodded, her eyes far away.

"So you never intended to come back for me," the blue-haired woman deduced calmly. "I suppose he was correct about that, then. That is all I need, Ms. Mitarai."

Meg watched wordlessly as Yoko rose to her feet, adjusting her black business skirt and fixing her wire-rimmed glasses. Her stomach felt sour despite the blunt truth. The truth would set you free, right? _Ha. _Talk about oversimplifying things…

Yoko gave Meg a slow bow before turning to leave.

"Yoko?" Meg barely recognised her hoarse, hesitant voice. She hadn't sounded so weak since… since… that awful few months after Jo had vanished.

The blue-haired woman paused, her brown eyes enquiring. "Yes, Ms. Mitarai?"

"I'm sorry, Yoko."

Yoko Ketsu smiled lightly. "Just make sure to make it up to me, Meg."

And then Yoko was gone, leaving Meg's hesitant apology seeming woefully inadequate.

* * *

Amy loudly hummed the main theme from _Dragon Bomber Brothers VII_ under her breath as she bypassed the security code to Meg's room with practiced ease. What? She was a genius hacker for crying out loud. She knew the Elizabeth's control systems like the back of her hand, and that was the way it should be! She didn't need to use a primitive keycard to get back into a security system she had upgraded _herself. _

Of course, Meg wasn't supposed to _know _that what was private actually… well, wasn't. Amy could do without the headache of navigating booby traps, just in order to steal items from Meg's room. Steal a bottle of perfume here, plant a couple of tracking devices on her uniforms there, nab her cigarettes and throw them out… It was for a good cause, right?

The automated doors to Meg's chambers slid open as Amy reached the climax of the game music, wrinkling her nose at the strong scent of cigarettes and gunpowder that accompanied Meg's usual scent. The mercenary was attractive, yes. That much she could admit. But those habits of hers were really _not. _

Muttering loudly about obnoxious idiots, Amy darted quickly into the room. It had been days since Meg had been in here last, so everything had remained untouched. The tattered cream scarf was strewn over the mattress like a great, dying snake. The tech-whiz chewed on her lip for a moment, debating moving it to a safer place before shrugging. If it got lost, that was Meg's fault. And it's not like it would really go all that far… Amy plopped down onto her hands and knees by the side of the bed and reached under the mattress. She felt her fingers brush coarse paper.

That was when the flash of the answering service caught her eye. Raising an eyebrow, Amy pulled the envelope that Meg was so hung up on out before turning her eyes onto the violation of nature from before.

Meg, getting a message from _anybody _on a private line? The idea was ludicrous in itself. The redheaded mercenary didn't have a life, being almost as bad as Amy remembered Jo having been. And that was _saying _something.

Amy's eyebrow twitched as she forced herself to turn away from the tantalizingly flashing light. Privacy violation wasn't socially acceptable, privacy violation wasn't-

Who the hell was she trying to kid? She was a _hacker. _Privacy violation was what she _did. _

"I know what killed the cat … but what the hey," Amy grinned to herself and quickly pressed the button.

There were a few moments of static before a distorted, female and Japanese voice whispered through the speakers.

"_Little Meg. Perhaps I was not clear the last time we spoke. You are running out of time." _There was a few more seconds of warped distortion before the line went dead.

Amy stared wordlessly down at the envelope in her hands. Meg's important envelope… it was almost like somebody had flipped the light switch in her brain, as suddenly she made the obvious connection. That weird woman was talking about the envelope! It was so clear to her now!

She paused, frowning. What was so damn important about the contents of this envelope? If Meg was over her head, it was better if Bai-Lan knew about it sooner, rather than later. Then again, Meg had _asked _for Amy to take it to Sei. Still. Information was information, and she was the best at gathering information.

Amy shrugged to herself. Hell, why not check it out? It wasn't like she was going to get caught, anyhow. Grinning to herself, she opened the unsealed end of the tan packet and let the contents spill out onto the cold metal floor of Meg's room. They appeared to be badly printed stills of a security tape. Black and white, and a little bit blurry –

Amy's eyes shot wide, her mouth dropping open in horror, as the full weight of what she was seeing hit her.

Hurriedly, the hacker scooped the stills back into the envelope and folded the end over to seal them in. Oh god. Oh _god what had she just seen? _Where the hell had Meg gotten all of this? When? The message left by the Japanese woman burned ominously in her brain as Amy scrambled for the closest intercom in Meg's room. It took her mere seconds to override to emergency system and establish a direct patch to Sei's personal chambers.

"Yo Sei?" Amy called breathlessly over the intercom, swallowing a feeling of incredible nausea. "We've got something _huge _on the RAPT case here!"

* * *

Sei buried her face in her hands as the intercom crackled back to silence.

_Abuse of the emergency system _ _ again _ _, Amy? _

The Bai-Lan leader sighed inaudibly before looking to her companions. "Please, excuse the interruption. Our intelligence expert gets rather excited at breakthroughs in the long-term projects."

Mr. Zuru and Mr. Shin sat at the heavy table in her study, each raising an eyebrow. Sei waited for half a second before continuing.

"Bai-Lan lost substantial manpower in last week's operation," she said firmly to the two Ormicon men. "We upheld our end of the bargain, and President Morholt lived to make it to the army base. Not only that but my people eliminated the Kruegar threat. Now you must uphold _your _end of the bargain."

Mr. Shin laughed loudly, lounging on the straight-backed chairs. "You put such a gloss on it, Laoban. The escort was practically cannon-fodder and your prized pet Mitarai was caught off-guard. In short, Bai-Lan was hardly what you'd talked it up to be." His hand twitched toward the wad of tobacco sticking from his jacket pocket.

"The contract is based on results alone, Mr. Shin." Sei told them levelly, massaging the scars on the back of her hand. "Bai-Lan's performance in the face of an unpredicted variable is not part of the equation."

Mr. Shin's lip curled. "Psh. Honourless dogs."

Sei's teeth clenched in spite of herself. She was a leader of a syndicate that dabbled in crime. It hurt but… it was truth.

Shin spat. "Just the results that matter, huh? So it doesn't matter that you lot sucked harder than a whore in the red-light district? Ha, Bai-Lan certainly has been defanged-"

"_Enough, _Mr. Shin." Zuru rumbled darkly, uncrossing his arms from where they were folded against his chest. "My lady, we did not-" the man's voice lowered ominously as he directed his comment to Shin. "-come here to jeopardise Ormicon's and Bai-Lan's business relationship. We have every intention of paying Bai-Lan the amount agreed upon. All we ask is for Kruegar's body to be given to us."

Sei's brow creased in a frown. "Why might it be of interest to you? A homeless RAPT prisoner is hardly worth-"

"Medical research," Shin glossed over her questions smoothly. "We wanna know what RAPT did to this fella that made him mad enough to go after President Morholt."

"I… see." Frankly, she didn't see at all. Sei made a mental note to get Nana or Hachi to do a preliminary examination of Kruegar's body before handing it over. If there was something important… She folded her hands in her lap, smoothing her features with some effort. There was no need to get worked up over a homeless vagrant.

"Then we have your word, Lady Laoban?" Mr. Zuru asked, leaning forwards in his seat slightly. Sei had to force herself to keep her face remaining smooth.

_ Far _ _ too eager._

The chamber doors slid open, admitting a petite young woman with light blue hair caught in a messy bun. She wore the same Ormicon insignia on her black jacket's pocket as the two suits seated at Sei's table, and Sei immediately made the connection.

_The president's secretary. Yoko Ketsu, from what Nana told me. An attendee of the Saint Luciana Academy during that whole RAPT fiasco._

Ms. Ketsu readjusted her wire-rimmed glasses, brown eyes sweeping over the room instantaneously before settling on Sei.

"I do hope I am not interrupting anything." The woman's voice, though soft, was clear. Sei felt herself smile.

"Ms. Ketsu, I presume? Mr. Zuru and Mr. Shin were just finishing up here." She turned her attention back to the suits before her. "You will receive the body after we have finished identifying _all_ the remains. We have a duty to our soldier's families, too."

The three Ormicon representatives nodded, as if it were par the course. But Sei couldn't help but wonder if it was really as simple as that for them.

Shin and Zuru climbed to their feet, joining Sei in a deep bow before turning to Ms. Ketsu.

"Hachi will see you off the _Elizabeth_ and back to solid ground." Sei told them formally, watching them as they filed from the room and towards the dock exit. As soon as the automated door slid shut again, Sei breathed a deep sigh of relief and rested her head in her hands. She had expected that meeting to have gone _much _worse – for Ormicon to opt out of payment and have to deal with an absolute armload of the resulting paperwork.

Rubbing her temples, Sei's fingers quickly dialled Nana's number on the internal communication system. It rang for a few seconds before the cat-woman's robotic voice greeted her.

"Nana. Make sure that the security around the meat lockers is doubled. I don't want that madman vanishing from the _Elizabeth _before we can give him a damn good once over."

"Of course, Lady Sei. Was there anything else?" the robot enquired in that infuriatingly polite tone. Sei broke a couple of painkillers from their foils, dry swallowing them.

"Could you perhaps get me Amy's private line? She contacted me over the emergency system again. I was otherwise preoccupied…"

There was the sound of faint static from the intercom as the call was processed.

"Amy here."

Sei took a deep swallow from a bottle of water hidden within her desk. "It's Sei. What was so damn important you had to use the emergency system _again?_"

"…seriously Sei. It _was _an emergency."

Sei paused. Amy was awfully serious. What was it that she'd said it was about?

"Of course," Sei agreed mildly. "Now what was it?"

There was a moment's silence from the other end of the intercom.

Amy's voice was deadly quiet when she spoke. "You'd have to see it to believe me."

* * *

Sei stared down at the steel desk top, over interlaced fingers. Or rather, she stared at what littered the desk's face. On the outside she made absolutely certain she was calm and unfazed by the grainy stills. Inside, her mind was in chaos.

_Jo. You're still hanging in there, after all these years? _Sei grimaced, unfolding her hands and scooping up the closest still. The image was blurry, but it was still easy to see the explicit details. The unnatural angle the silver-haired woman's arm was bent at nearly made her gag-

"So it seems Meg's contact was legitimate." Sei placed the photograph onto the steel surface, unable to stomach looking at it any longer.

Amy raised an eyebrow, still looking a little pale and sweaty. "Contact?"

Sei breathed in sharply. "The night before the Ormicon operation, Meg received a strange phone call. The caller did not ID herself, only claimed she was from RAPT and that they had Jo. Nana and Hachi were unable to trace it back to its source. I dismissed it as a hoax, but it seemed to rattle Meg enough that she had to follow the trail of information the contact had left for her. No matter what I said, I could not convince her that it was useless." Sei's grimace deepened as her eyes met Amy's.

"And I suppose this is what she found at the end of the trail. _This._" The Bai-Lan leader picked up another snapshot, feeling ill. "No wonder she was so distracted during the operation..."

Amy's brown eyes looked troubled, and she seemed to be actively trying not to look at the photos scattered over the table. "What do we _do _about this? I know we've gone on little information before, but… this could have been taken _anywhere _in Japan, for all we know. Heck, it could even be in the United States!"

"…as Bai-Lan's leader, I owe Jo. I owe Jo my life_._" Sei held up a hand covered in burn scars. Her joints were still painful, the road to recovery had been hellish – but it was still _life._

_((-get in Jango _ _ now _ _ Sei! Do you hear me?" The silver-haired gunner screamed at Sei over the powerful shockwave the central brain released as Jo's bullets drove home. Sei's bullet-torn body was too sluggish to move properly, she was in too much pain-_

"_SEI!" the gunner roared again. Jo's fierce red eyes searched the room desperately for a moment – Sei cried out as the woman slung her over her shoulder with ease that would have shocked Sei had it been anyone else. She felt herself black out for a moment and suddenly she was in Jango's cockpit, with Jo staring in at her from the outside. The woman gave her boss a strained smile and a lazy salute. Sei's eyes widened as she realized what Jo intended to do. The cockpit hatch locked shut._

"_Jo- NO!" Sei pounded her fists against the inside of the hatch. "Get in here, that's an __order__-"_

_The world shook as the explosion superheated the air in the cockpit. As Sei felt her clothes begin to burn, she mercifully struck her head against the interior of the hatch and knew no more.))_

Sei clenched her scarred fist tightly as the rawness of her memories blurred her vision for an instant.

"We owe it to Jo to do what we can. We'll find her and bring her back. Bai-Lan leader or no, I still have my goddamn sense of honour."

As hard as it had been to believe before, Sei knew it was truth now.

"What do you want me to do?" Amy asked quietly, but there seemed to be a spark of life in her brown eyes now. One that Sei hadn't noticed had been missing…

"Verify that those really are RAPT soldiers in the pictures, and then find me some candidates for locations. I want to know who those guards are in those pictures and if we can fix a location from their IDs. Let me know _immediately _when you are done." Sei watched the hacker leave in an energetic blur, half a smile coming to her lips.

For the first time in years, she felt alive.


	6. Cyborg Grudge

Meg stared moodily up at the white-washed ceiling above her. Fifty four insects had gotten themselves stuck in the paint job up there. There were three spit balls and oddly enough, one and a half scuff marks. The redhead sighed lightly, a little glad that her ribs weren't as tender as they had been when she'd first awoken. Still, it didn't hurt to be careful about these things. Doctor Irukon was hardly going to release her from this godforsaken infirmary if she re-cracked a rib from just _sighing. _

It had been three days. Three days of _goddamn _nothing. No visitors. No news. No Sei, no Amy. Just Doctor Irukon's persistent and _irritating _questioning, regularly spaced meals and the occasional check-up. Sometimes Meg slept, but more often than not her inner turmoil kept her wide awake, even in the dead of the night. Thoughts about Jo, the sickening photos. Thoughts about Yoko, how Meg had _royally screwed everything up yet again-_

Meg's lips thinned in disgust with herself. Jo had never been as weak or pathetic as Meg was feeling right now. She would have already stormed out of the infirmary, given Irukon the finger and told Sei to put her to work. But as restless as Meg was feeling, she had a hunch that Sei wasn't about to take that kind of attitude this time around. And Amy would give her hell over it…

"Three goddamn days. Amy could have at _least _put me at ease about the photos, instead of leaving me here to stew…" Meg grumbled under her breath, pausing. There was no sound from the doctor's office around the corner. Finally, no sound. Blessed quietness, huh?

With a stir-crazy growl, Meg eased the sheets from her tender body. She cursed quietly as pain flashed through her ribs and bicep but continued doggedly. She couldn't _stand _being cooped up in that place any damn longer. Grinning to herself, Meg swung her legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the clean red jacket draped over the chair next to the bed. Shrugging it on, a slight wave of nausea blurred her vision for a moment, and the redhead cradled her bandaged head in her hands for a moment. Perhaps getting up so quickly wasn't the best of her ideas, but she was hardly in the mood to stop now. She blinked furiously to clear her vision before padding over to the window overlooking the port.

The _Elizabeth_, though easily capable of flight and complete submersion, usually docked in the Port of Tokyo when Bai-Lan had business in the city. Meg wasn't sure how Sei had procured the permits to operate from the port as a… 'special interests syndicate'. Frankly, she reckoned it had something to do with Takane Katsu. For a woman of the law, that psychotic biker sure had her rebellious moments.

Meg pushed the infirmary window wide open, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. The cold sharpness eased her mind somewhat, the rhythmic lapping of the waves on the _Elizabeth's _bull soothing her soul. Below her, she could see some of the more ranking members of Sei's organization scurrying around. The centre of operations for Bai-Lan was merely one hundred feet away from the airship – Sei claimed she liked to maintain a healthy presence at the site of her organization. With what Meg learned had happened Don Laoban's leadership five years ago, she could hardly blame the woman for being slightly paranoid.

A jeepload of Bai-Lan squad members pulled out from Bai-Lan building, and Meg heartily wished she was going with them. Anything at all would relieve the utter boredom of just lying in the infirmary bed _day after day-_

Meg patted her jacket pocket compulsively, smirking as she felt the cardboard pack still in there. After a little bit of rummaging, she drew a single cigarette from the pack – her smirk grew wider.

_Perfect._

Meg withdrew her lighter from her other pocket, and with a hurried look back at Doctor Irukon's office, Meg lit the cigarette and drew a deep breath in-

Only to start a coughing fit again, the burning sensation in the back of her throat making her wheeze. Of course, inhaling as much putrid smoke as Meg had would still have its effects.

"Tch..." Meg rubbed her bandaged forehead in distaste, tapping the ashes free from the still-smouldering smoke. "Figures."

She watched dispassionately as another carload of Bai-Lan operatives screeched away, wondering where they were going. She took another lungful of nicotine, her need to calm her fraying nerves starting to outweigh her need to breathe properly.

"Ms. Mitarai, I would ask you _again _to stop smoking in the infirmary," a polite, if dreaded, voice complained from behind her.

Meg sighed. The gig was up.

"Come to stop my evil habits, Doc?" Meg turned, regarding the white-coated doctor with a cool eye. "Ain't gonna work."

The doctor straightened his square-rimmed glasses, a cold smirk on his lips. "I know a hopeless case when I encounter one, Mitarai. Never fret about that."

"Tch. Release me to active duty then, Doc. It'd be easier on your poor, abused soul." Meg flicked the smouldering cigarette butt out the window, savouring the flash of annoyance in the doctor's blue eyes. Proper bastard that he was-

"Of course. When you are properly healed up, you may leave. By all means, don't bless me with your charming company a moment longer," the doctor said, scanning his chart a moment.

"Mild concussion. Three cracked ribs. First degree burn on the cheek, second degree burns on the hands. Chest infection from the smoke inhalation, and slight burning of the air passageways. Cut in the scalp. Superficial cut over the righteye, and a bullet wound in the bicep that turned infectious," he sighed. "By all rights, you should have died like the rest of the troops. You should be grateful that your injuries are minor as they are."

Meg closed her eyes for an instant. "I'll be grateful when you let me outta here. I'm going stir-crazy."

Doctor Irukon paused, looking up from his chart. "I am only doing my job, Ms. Mitarai, so that you may go back to yours at full capacity."

There was another tense moment of silence.

He pinched the bridge of his nose before readjusting his glasses. "As it is, I see no further reason for you to be forced to stay here. However, I require that you report to my office for daily checkups and after any missions, for at least the next week."

Meg raised an eyebrow, unable to believe it was that simple. This was a Bai-Lan employee, after all. Snakes, the lot of them…

"And that's all? No promises to behave? No threats to strap me to my bed if I strain myself?" Meg asked warily. There was no way in heck Doctor Irukon was giving up this easily.

The doctor smiled humourlessly. "That, Ms. Mitarai, is up to you."

* * *

Sei didn't look as nearly surprised as Meg had imagined when the redhead barged into the command centre of the _Elizabeth_, merely raising an eyebrow at the overly-dramatic entrance. Striding to Sei's right hand side, the mercenary quickly scanned the command centre's screens to gain some sense of the situation. Neither of the three others seated in the command centre looked up at Meg's arrival, and she squinted at the screens a bit more. Amy, Nana and Hachi seemed to be neck-deep in some strange binary code that all looked like gibberish to Meg-

The redhead slouched, feeling a bit useless.

"Well, I don't have a damn clue of what's going on," Meg sighed, rubbing a hand through her hair sheepishly. "Care to fill me in, Sei?"

Sei's dark eyes darted over to Meg for an instant, coolly appraising the redhead.

"Amy is using Nana and Hachi to track something," the Bai-Lan leader said slowly, crossing her arms over her breasts as she stared at the screens. "It's considered one of our top priorities."

"Cool…" Meg paused, waiting for Sei to clarify. When the woman remained silent, Meg pressed on again. "So… what is it?"

Sei gave one of her more mysterious smiles, tapping the side of her nose. "It has… something to do with the video stills that you had Amy bring me."

Meg's eyes widened in shock. "You mean you're seriously trying to find_ Jo-" _the mercenary's demand was quickly reduced to a coughing fit, almost doubling her over in its intensity. Amy raised her eyes from her screen, giving the redhead a concerned look.

Sei waited for Meg's coughs to die off before she answered.

"Yes, Meg. That is precisely what I'm trying to do." Sei's smile became slightly sad, her words a little bitter. "Do you really believe that after seeing those photos, that I would simply ignore them? Like some shameless and ungrateful dog?"

Meg halted, her mouth half open. Perhaps she _had_ believed that. All she'd really been expecting was Sei to give her time off so she could hunt down RAPT and _pull Maria's lungs out through her nose-_

"Of course not!" Meg stammered out, scratching the back of her head furiously as her face flushed. "I mean, you care about Jo too, right?"

The Bai-Lan leader nodded and turned her gaze back to the monitors. For a moment, Meg thought that that was the end of what Sei had to say on the subject.

"…I owe Jo my life, so finding her is the _least_ I can do. We both want her back, Meg." Sei's voice was very quiet, almost so quiet Meg couldn't hear. The redhead clenched her teeth, staring at her heavy boots. Sei was right. Sei was always right.

Meg's throat constricted painfully as she ground out, "So what do we do now?"

Sei's expression was grim. "We play the waiting game and hope that Amy turns up something."

Meg bowed her head in assent, her mind in turmoil once again.

_Damnit Jo. Hold on._

* * *

Deep within the _Elizabeth's _dark hull, two Bai-Lan agents stood around, bored out of their minds and shivering from the residual chill from the cold storage. One of them lit a cigarette, the other sipped a hot coffee. A light job, an easy job.

…a job that was more boring than being chained to a desk. At least then he'd actually have something to _do _instead of standing around, guarding an effing _dead body-_

"Who the heck puts guards on a dead body, anyhow?" The man swore to himself quietly, taking a deep breath of smoke. Man, smoking was the only thing to _do _in this place. Except for maybe fucking-

"You know how the leader is. Spends manpower on the strangest of intuitions." The woman sipped her hot coffee, scuffing her boot on the metallic floor of the hold. "Bah. At least she's not as buried in tradition as the Don. Sei Laoban at least is a _little _more proactive."

"Proactive to the point of being paranoid over dead bodies. Man, I thought Mitarai took this ugly fucker out? It's not like Kruegar's gonna get up and go zombie on us." The man snorted at his own sense of humour. He could see it now, the dead rising to claw its way out of the locked hold, him saving his lovely partner and becoming the hero of the day-

"Hirao says he almost got a clear shot of that bastard, but the smoke was in the way. None of the other snipers got a shot in, so it had to have been her. Guess it's just another notch in the belt for Mitarai…" the woman murmured, draining the Styrofoam cup of its contents and crushing in her gloved fist.

The man took a lungful of smoke, shuffling from foot to foot in an effort to keep warm. Something to get his blood pumping didn't seem like such a bad idea… he eyed his partner speculatively. She wasn't too shabby for a Bai-Lan agent – nothing on that hot little hacker on Laoban's personal team, but still. He could bear it.

The shrill sound of a pocket alarm went off in the darkness, and the woman's fingers quickly withdrew her cell phone. She grunted as she disabled the inbuilt alarm, climbing to her feet and stretching.

The man laughed. "You seriously set a _timer _for this? Oh man, that's unreal!" His mocking laughter earned him a sharp glare, but he didn't care. The alarm meant that this godforsaken shift was nearly _over. _Man, he was ready to go out and hit the closest buffet bar after this hell.

"We check the body, then we wait for our relief to stop on by." The woman rolled her shoulders before slapping the button to open the hold door.

"Psh. What a stupid order. Of _course _the body's gonna be there. Seriously man, what the heck is Laoban thinking?" The man commented as the pair of them entered the cold storage hold, scanning the dark corners with flashlights to check for any intruders.

_As if there's really gonna be any. _

The mangled body of Edward Kruegar lay on the metal slab, motionless. Just has it had been every _other _effing time they'd checked on it. What, was Sei _expecting _someone to come in and nick the body? Geez…

His partner wandered over to the body, running the torchlight over him quickly.

"Everything's in order with this guy. Nothing suss. Over," the woman spoke into her communication piece, receiving a garbled confirmation of something. She smiled. "Time to get outta this freezing hell hole."

Then, she frowned, staring at something on the slab. The man turned to go, only too eager to get out of there. Let the next sentries deal with whatever shit she'd found-

"Hey, wait a minute," she murmured. "That blood. It looks-"

That was when he saw Kruegar's eyes snap open.

* * *

Meg intently watched Amy's fingers dart across the central keyboard, frowning to herself. Amy had some wicked skills in hacking and searching through computers, but RAPT was probably pulling out all the stops to keep themselves from under Bai-Lan and the Hanshin-Tokyo Police force's watchful eyes. To be frank, the odds of locating Jo in good time… it worried her. More than she cared to admit aloud, anyhow.

Pausing in her search, the hacker shot Meg a sharp look out of the corner of her eye. Amusingly, Amy was blushing heavily from Meg's unashamed scrutiny.

"You mind _not _cramping my style? Your big fat head is distracting me!" The teen pouted, outright _glowering _at Megand crossing her arms over her chest.

The mercenary raised an eyebrow in response. "Gee, someone's touchy today. Were you up too late playing _Dragon Bomber Brothers_?"

The look became withering. "I was _up _all last night _searching for RAPT-" _Amy's voice was getting heated when Sei cut in with a smooth command.

"Meg."

Sighing, Meg rubbed a hand through her bangs. Sei had a point; bothering Amy now would only set back the mission. She was just so damn _eager _for information. Any information would do! Just so long as she didn't feel so useless-

The speaker on Nana's desk crackled briefly, and the catwoman disengaged from Amy's exhaustive search to answer the comm. device. Meg could just make out the message if she strained.

"_Everything's in order with this guy. Nothing suss. Over."_

"Return to your post, and the next squad will relieve you," the pink-eared neko replied briskly, turning her attention back to the search-screens. Meg was mildly impressed, but half of her wondered what Sei was up to, and _what _exactly these guys were watching.

If it were anything entertaining, Meg would have to have a word with Sei about letting her join! The redhead frowned and looked up at the screen.

She sighed, leaning against the wall. Amy's eyes narrowed in annoyance as Meg, smirking, sighed loudly again.

"_Meg-" _the hacker warned, but as something beeped to life on the screens, her tirade was cut off. Frowning, Amy brought the alert up to full screen, silently taking in the details. Meg followed suit, raising an eyebrow. Apparently, something had breached some electrical field in the _Elizabeth's _hold.

"Hey, Sei? Seems like something's gone wrong with Kruegar's body," Amy called out loudly to her. Meg froze, a little confused. The Bai-Lan snipers had taken out Kreugar; why did they need to watch over a dead body? Agitated, Meg crossed her arms over her chest and ignoring the slight twinge in her ribs.

"Is it serious?" Sei asked, her tone level. The woman crossed her arms over her chest, her forehead creased in a worried look.

Amy stretched, making a grand show of cracking her back. "Naw, those thugs you call agents probably just tripped it again on their way out. Morons."

The relief on Sei's face was palpable, and Meg wasn't sure why. It was really starting to bother her.

"What exactly is so important about a dead body, anyhow?" she ventured, shooting a sidelong glance at Sei. "I mean, those snipers got him."

"What, indeed," Sei murmured, her eyes fixed to the screen. "I was asking that same question, not three days ago."

Meg closed her eyes, praying to some god – any god – for the patience to deal with her boss' usual games. Damn Sei and her damn question dodging. "Then what's going on?"

There was a moment of silence, and Meg almost laughed. Was Sei _trying _to be melodramatic or something?

"After a look at the body, Hachi ascertained that Kruegar was hardly a normal RAPT prisoner." Sei's voice was laden with meaning, and Meg's eyes widened.

_Not this shit again. _Her hands clenched into fists so tightly that she felt her knuckles crack. _Not RAPT and its goddamn monsters. _

"In any case, Ormicon have expressed interest in the body, and I suspect they may try to take the body by force-"

The rest of Sei's statement was lost in the massive roar of an explosion. Meg fell to her knees as the explosion rocked the airship, her teeth clenching in agony as her head slammed into the side of Sei's command chair, agony nearly splitting her ribs. Sei, seated in her command chair as she was, escaped the brunt of the force. With dazed eyes, Meg stared at where Amy was pushing herself up from the keyboard, touching a hand to her head and her fingers coming away bloody-

_Get a grip on yourself, Meg! _The quake from the blast seemed to die quickly, and with a trembling hand Meg forced herself to her feet. A wave of nausea hit her again, darkening her vision for a moment before she righted herself. She didn't wait for Sei's orders, and she didn't look back as the alarms began to screech. As she sprinted from the command centre, murderous rage seared through her soul. Ormicon was going to _pay._

* * *

_You hot-headed fool! _Sei internally ranted as she watched Meg vanish from the command centre, far too late and far too shaken to yell for her to stop. _We don't have the intel on the situation, and you're charging in? _It was that sort of behaviour that gave Meg a name as a rash and impulsive agent. Anybody other than Sei would have fired her lose-cannon ass for some of the stunts she had pulled.

With a tangible effort, Sei forced her uncharacteristically wild thoughts down, compressing them until they were all but gone. Instead, she pushed herself up off the chair, thankful she'd been seated when the blast hit. Even if it still felt as if her joints were quaking with the blast.

"Nana! Status report!" Sei ordered the cat-woman to her left.

Wordlessly, Nana's fingers raced furiously over the keyboard, crimson warning signals lighting up the command centre's screens threateningly. As Nana brought up the video feed from the hull and the overall status of the _Elizabeth, _Sei cursed. With a sinking heart, she already knew what had happened. The body was gone.

The area displayed on the screen came through as warped and fuzzy, but even through the grime caked to the camera lens, Sei could make out that the entire wall of the cold storage hold had been torn apart by the massive explosion from before. There were the two smoking bodies of her agents strewn about the hold, mangled far beyond individual recognition. Sei frowned – there appeared to be a number of other bodies, those that did not bear the Bai-Lan insignia.

"But _why _would they take out their own men?" Sei murmured to herself, barely audible over the whooping of the alarms, and crossed the floor quickly to Amy. The girl had barely reacted since the blast had hit, which was worrying. The teen normally was buried in binary code in situations like this-

Sei reached a hand for Amy's shoulder, shaking her gently. The teen groaned loudly, wiping her bangs from her forehead with a crimson-stained hand. The bangs were slicked with blood, the Bai-Lan leader realised in alarm.

"Amy, what happened? Are you all right?" Sei asked loudly, gripping Amy's shoulder hard.

"Cracked my head on the edge of the keyboard…" she muttered as she roused from her stupor. Her dark eyes were slightly unfocused. "M'alright."

Sei cursed silently. Whoever had done this – be it Ormicon, RAPT or, god help her, the Hanshin – was going to regret assaulting the _Elizabeth_ and injuring _her_ agents. Amy was like a sister to her, and the agents they'd murdered in cold blood just now – Sei's jaw clenched. She had already lost so many of them in such a short time.

"You're certain?" Sei quickly passed her a handkerchief from within her sleeve, letting Amy mop up the blood with it. Scalp-wounds tended to bleed a lot…

_Meg won't be able to handle Ormicon on her own. She's good with her guns but she'll be hopelessly outnumbered. _Sei's mind raced, trying to salvage the situation from the utter disaster it had become.

As Amy nodded, Sei came to her decision.

"Amy, I want you to recall Hirao's squad. They're the closest squad we've got… Meg needs backup in taking out Ormicon's thugs."

* * *

Meg's ribs were agony again as she jogged down the narrow hallways of the _Elizabeth, _blood pounding in her ears and her mouth dust-dry. She had no idea of who the enemy was here, and as the smoke in the air grew thicker and heavier her throat began to burn. Her breath caught in her throat as her lungs tried to reject the acrid air. Just a bit further, just a bit faster –

As Meg rounded the final bend to the hold, she reflexively drew one of her modified Desert Eagles from her holster, looking down momentarily to check the magazine. Full, of course. Sei was always thorough with Bai-Lan's armoury and supplies.

She slowed to a halt as she came to the barred, iron doors to the hold. The sealing and locking mechanisms appeared to have been blown by whatever blast had rocked the _Elizabeth, _so even in her weakened state she was able to unbar the doors and heave them open. Smoke, thick and black, billowed out of the storage room as the redhead gasped and fell against the doors. Her breath catching in her throat, Meg straightened, raising a Desert Eagle.

The storage room was silent, save for the crackling of torn electricity cables. Meg's teeth clenched as she eased her head around the corner, her entire body prickling. Bodies were strewn all over the scorched floor. Even though the uniforms were blackened by the blast, only two of the bodies bore the Bai-Lan crest. Her eyes narrowed from behind her goggles. The hull had been blown clean off, but who were these people?

Sei's words from the command room came back in a rush. Were these guys really from Ormicon?

The hair on the back of her neck rose, and Meg slammed herself to the ground just in time for the flurry of machinegun fire to pass above her. Swearing, she turned the fall into an off the shoulder roll that put her back behind the iron doors.

_Oh man, what the hell was that? More Ormicon thugs? _Meg scowled, rubbing her arm with her free hand. But… none of the bodies in the storage were equipped with machine guns.

_This is so confusing. Maybe I should have waited for the intel…_

The click of steel-shod boots on iron made her eyes widen as her assailant approached the doors that shielded her. Meg's grip on the Desert Eagles tightened, her scowl deepening.

A softly sinister chuckle reached her ears over the crackle of electricity. Her skin crawled, her mind racing to remember where she had heard that laugh before –

With an almost sonic speed, something slammed into her jaw, knocking her to the floor. Meg groaned in agony, blinking furiously to clear her eyes from the sparks dancing before them, only to find herself being hoisted roughly to her feet by her jacket. Meg forced her dazed eyes open and stared her attacker in the face.

The unbalanced grin on the partially ruined face caught her completely off-guard.

"You!" Meg's mind spun. Kruegar. Kruegar was dead, she'd _seen _the shot that had taken him out, she'd _seen him fall damnit-_

"And here I was thinkin' you'da forgotten me!" Kruegar whispered before dissolving into a fit of cackles. The man lifted her clean off her feet with a strength that seemed inhuman, and slammed her into the iron wall. Meg choked back a scream as her ribs burned once more. Once again, she forced her eyes open.

"How could I forget a face as ugly as yours?" Meg gasped out. Oh god, she just wanted to surrender into darkness and forget all about this new nightmare.

Kruegar cackled. "I guess that makes us one fer all, eh?" His voice lowered dangerously. "I coulda sworn I'd killed you in that blast, yet you still managed to get back up." Meg could feel his fist tightening in her jacket. "I feel like breakin' this tie we have goin', missy."

Meg forced herself to laugh despite the panic that threatened to leave her a gibbering mess. "Is that right?" Kruegar must have the weapon concealed in his left sleeve, the one hidden from her view. He must. "Well… I'm only too happy to comply!"

With a yell, Meg brought the Desert Eagle still clenched in her good hand up to eye level and emptied half a magazine into the bastard's head. Kruegar convulsed, his head snapping backwards as he was forced to release Meg.

Kruegar seemed to shudder again… and then snapped his head around to face Meg, his mouth forced into a demonic grin. Half his face was missing, torn away by the bullet that by all rights should have killed him. It exposed the cybernetic parts that encased Kruegar's skull. Green blood leaked down what was left of his face, flowing freely from a crack in the skull plates above his temple.

"Why hello there, Mitarai." The madman's face twisted, revealing mandibles large enough to completely slice Meg's arm off. Kruegar spread his arms wide, as if inviting her to his creepy little party. The redhead backed away warily, her mind racing.

_RAPT. RAPT made this man… what he is. _Meg realized with sudden clarity, bile forcing its way into her mouth. So this had been what Sei had meant about 'not normal'. But she must have been sure he was out of commission… or had he been? The events of the Ormicon mission seemed so fuzzy now…

She didn't hesitate, unloading five bullets from the other Desert Eagle into Kruegar's torso. The grin flickered into a frown briefly as his body jerked again, green blood still running freely from the creature's skull. Meg's eyes hardened. The experiment was far from invincible in spite of the bizarre enhancements RAPT had given him during his imprisonment. Her eyes darted to the security camera nearby. Surely Sei was watching this, sending backup, thinking of some plan-

Without warning, Kruegar lashed out with a rapid combination of knife-hand strikes aimed to cripple, if not outright kill. Meg ducked under the quick succession of blows before ramming her booted foot into Kruegar's gut. Her gloved hands came in behind Kruegar's sweaty neck, gripping with vice-like strength before slamming the flesh part of his half-ruined face into her waiting knee. The cyborg grunted, righting himself with a sickening ease. Her breath hitched painfully, white hot daggers of pain seeming to shoot through her side. Meg blocked his retaliating punch, dodging backwards and around, ever mindful of the fire and smoke, boots slipping in the ash and sweat beading on her forehead.

Kruegar let out a blood-curdling scream, his eyes rolling into the back of his head – a terrifying demon. Meg's teeth bared in a snarl.

It had been a long time since she'd been afraid of RAPT's demons.

She dodged to the side as Kruegar lunged for her, unceremoniously reloading each gun. The Desert Eagles in her hands were trembling as she raised them, firing off a series of shots towards the insane experiment. His body shook with each impact, forcing him back a step, then two. Meg's jaw firmed, her eyes narrowing behind the darkened lenses of her goggles.

Kruegar was not invincible, but Meg was hardly equipped to deal with a RAPT-brand _cyborg_. She was certain Sei would bring in the backup, she just needed to last until that time. Buy them time to get there.

It seemed like an impossible task.

Kruegar righted himself, wiping green blood from his chin.

"They are right to fear you," he whispered, moving back several steps towards the hold's doors. He cackled. "Why don't we play in earnest, Mitarai?" He spread his arms again. "Show me what you've got, bitch, or you ain't _never _gonna beat _her."_

Meg's mind blanked, before she saw red.

_Maria._

"Her?" she demanded, advancing. The world seemed to grow hazing around her. There was only her, Kruegar, and the information she needed. It was all that existed. "What do you _know, _Kruegar?"

"_MITARAI! GET BACK!" _A voice roared from behind her, and instinctively, Meg whirled to face the intruder. A boy in full Bai-Lan riot gear had a high-powered rifle cocked and trained on Kruegar's head. Meg's eyes widened.

_No. Not before he tells me everything!_

"Stand down!" Meg screamed, lunging for the gun. The boy stepped neatly to the side, pulling the trigger. There was a feral growl from behind her, and Meg spun to find Kruegar – the man was gone.

The boy swore violently. "You fool, Mitarai," he spat. "I could have had the bastard, had you not interfered."

Meg resisted the urge to reach out and strangle the boy. She didn't care _who _this cocky little _arrogant _fool thought he was-

Every second she spent here taking revenge on this idiot for disobeying orders was a second Kruegar got further away. She cursed, shoving her way past the boy and into the scorched hold. In the near distance, she could see the smoking wreckage of three cars. He was getting away, but a being of destruction shouldn't be too hard to follow. He was leaving quite a trail for her.

"I'll deal with _you _later," she told the boy venomously, before leaping from hole in the hold and giving chase to the insane cyborg.

* * *

The boy slammed his fist into iron walls, shaking with rage. With an effort, he took two deep, calming breaths and activated his radio.

"Hirao here," he growled. "The cyborg target's fled, and Mitarai has given pursuit. Requesting permission to pursue."

"_Damn it all, Hirao!"_ the Bai-Lan leader's voice crackled in his ear. _"He activated?"_

"Affirmative."

There was a few seconds of silence that Hirao could have sworn were filled with voiceless curses to every god Sei knew of, and then curses to a few more.

"_Report to the hanger. NOW, Hirao! Ormicon's hired some thugs and I doubt they'll be wanting to let go of the body they'd wanted so badly a few days ago."_

Hebared his teeth in frustration. "And the cyborg?" It was difficult to keep his voice level when he was feeling so much anger. Ungrateful redheaded bitch… Couldn't she see that Kruegar had been about to open her up a new asshole?

"_Meg can deal with him. I trust her capabilities."_

_Like you trust mine? I'm the best damn agent you got, Sei. Why compromise yourself with that loose cannon who can't even follow the simplest of orders? _

His mouth twisted in distaste. Laoban's favouritism of Mitarai was truly sickening at times.

"Ma'am," he grunted in acquiesce into the radio, before shouldering his rifle and began to make his way back to the hanger.

* * *

Meg slowed to a jog as she reached the construction zone. Five years after Jo and Maria's cybot battle there, the area still hadn't recovered from the sheer carnage the pair had wrought. She forced herself to smile, despite the agony in her ribs. It was probably just as well they'd come to a mostly uninhabited area. Maybe Kruegar wasn't as mad as she'd been told.

_Of course, he could always have dragged your ass out here so that when he kills you, he can do it slowly; no interruptions, just you and him…_ the more morbid part of her brain told her grimly, as she wearily scaled a mangled slab of concrete while adjusting her goggles. She released the safety on her Desert Eagles, every fibre in her body straining for some sort of sign to tell her where that cyborg menace was hiding now…

Cement crumbled to her right. Meg's gaze snapped up and fixed on the mound of ruined building, one Desert Eagle locked on to whatever had made the disturbance. She could have sworn she heard a snicker of laughter, close enough to make the hair rise on the back of her neck.

From somewhere in the construction sites, she heard Kruegar laugh harder as she whirled, trying to find the source of his voice.

"RAPT would sure laugh if they saw you now!" the madman crowed, the mocking laughter seeming to come from all angles at once. Then the voice lowered into something more sinister. "They'd sure be laughing at me…"

Meg smirked and lowered her gun. If he was going to be like that…

"Tell me, Kruegar. Why exactly would _RAPT _be laughing at you?" she asked the flitting shadows around her, raising her voice loud enough for Kruegar to easily hear her. "More like they'd be sick to their stomachs."

"It's so _easy _to be the sarcastic cynic, isn't it, Mitarai?" The unseen cyborg whispered to her right, though he wasn't there at all when she turned. "They'd be laughing to see what they've done. Sadistic bastards that they are."

"No disagreements here," Meg nodded, still searching for the enemy, her eyes roving the shadowy shells of the buildings. "You're one fucked up guy. So it was RAPT who did this? They were the ones who turned you into… this? While they had you imprisoned?"

"_Falsely _imprisoned," the cyborg corrected, before chortling again. "Why, could it be more obvious, Mitarai? Do I need to spell it out in the sky? Or do I just need to spell it out in Maria's blood?"

"Would be a nice gesture," the wary mercenary agreed, before her eyes hardened. "So long as you let me draw the blood myself."

The shadows flitted to her right, and Meg's eyes narrowed to slits. She thought she had it figured out, now. Pattern of movements, speed, location –

"Ah, the little bird has fangs. No, Maria's destruction is mine and mine alone."

"Then why were you after President Morholt?" Meg demanded, frustrated. It didn't make any sense. If there was anyone Kruegar should be taking vengeance on, it was _RAPT. _Not Ormicon! Unless his maddened delusions had extended so far that he no longer was able to tell friend from foe… or did he think that the plans Morholt had carried would help bring him back to a normal life? Meg's eyes stayed fixed on the shadows at her right.

"You followed me here to find the answers to your RAPTy little questions. You should be wary of what you learn – she's gunning for you, she's gunning for me, she's gunning for _life-_" Kruegar broke off into a sing-song voice, muttering intelligibly beneath his breath. "And now, little Mitarai, you kill or be killed. Because that's the way they told me it would have to be!"

The hair rose on the back of her neck.

Meg stepped quickly to the side as a hail of machine gun fire tore through the air where she'd been not half a second before. She raised both Desert Eagles in a fluid motion and drew the trigger, firing two shots apiece into the place where she knew Kruegar had been hiding. There was a roar of surprise, and she knew she'd shot true. Green blood splattered the rubble as Meg streaked forwards, ignoring the agony in her ribs and shoulder again.

The cyborg rolled out of the way, the remaining half of his human face blown completely off and exposing the metal horror beneath the flesh. It was all knives and mandibles and twitching eyes, all fixed on her as he surged to his feet, the torn off sleeve of his coat revealing the machine gun anchored to the stump –

Meg dodged the next volley of bullets easily, slamming her metal-shod boot into the side of Kruegar's face and launching him several feet backwards. Panting, Meg reloaded the Desert Eagles and pounded forwards, pistol-whipping Kruegar across what used to be his face and firing at point-blank range into Kruegar's chest. She just had to hit the central core that gave him his power, she thought desperately as he launched himself at her with an ear-shattering howl, parrying his strikes with her Desert Eagles and firing deep into his body again and again and again…

_He's just not dying, _she realized desperately as she pivoted to avoid the rain of machine gun fire that Kruegar had managed to get off in spite of her constant attacks. _Damnit, I can't keep this up, not as injured as I am-_

Then it happened. Just a miniscule too much balance on one foot, just a little too much momentum trying to carry her forward and suddenly she was off balance, struggling to right herself in the sliding rubble.

Her mind screamed at her body uselessly-

-suddenly she was staring at the sky, something huge locked around her throat and agonizing fire all through her body. Her exhausted mind struggled to right itself, struggled to remember what had happened.

Memories hit her light a mallet. He was finishing the job with his hands, choking the life out of her as she stared at the sky, unable to bear seeing the terrifying mandibles working hungrily in his cheeks as she died. Her gloved hands clawed uselessly at the iron flesh of his arms, Desert Eagles hurled far away and no use at all any more.

"Kill or be killed, Mitarai," the cyborg informed her again. "Those are the _rules…_"

The iron hand tightened around her neck, and Meg's vision blacked temporarily.

"DROP THE GIRL NOW!" A booming voice broke through Meg's oxygen-deprived stupor, and her eyes snapped open. In spite of her blurring vision, she could make out figures in riot gear, bearing the symbol of Ormicon…

She gurgled weakly, clawing again at the iron muscles that held her, and suddenly she crashed to the floor, the vice around her neck suddenly gone. Heaving in deep breaths and coughing, Meg stared up at the cyborg.

"So, you guys wanna come play too, eh?" Kruegar demanded, that strange, hollow laughter sounding yet again. "Sorry! Maybe _next_ time!"

She wasn't sure what he did as he slammed his whole fist into the ground beneath them, but a dull roar filled her ears. The stone and cement seemed to turn to liquid around them, crumbling and falling. She barely registered that she was plummeting into some undefined darkness, and then there was nothing but blessed stillness and freedom from the agony of her body.


	7. Dungeon Crawler

_The drugs flowing thickly through her veins made her vision blur sickeningly, made it feel as though cockroaches were crawling beneath her skin. Meg convulsed as the crawling feeling ran up her body, panting hard as she tried to resist the effects of the drug. _

_She saw Angelique's cold smile before the drugs hallucinatory effects flowed through her senses, lulling her from fear into… apathy._

_Helplessly, she divulged information about herself and Jo that she had always held so close to her heart. The events of New York. Her feelings of uselessness and failure. And most frightening of all, her buried feelings for the gunner were laid bare to the Ishtar Club._

_It was freedom. It was terrifying._

_She blinked, and it seemed that Jo was before her. A smile was on her lips, her crimson eyes welcoming as she held out a hand. Meg glided forwards, placing her hand in Jo's._

_She blinked again, and Jo's lips were on her own. Meg groaned deeply as Jo's lips grazed her throat roughly. Something was wrong. Something. Why was Jo… why did Jo know?_

_She blinked once more, and the illusion shattered. Yoko stood before her, smiling still. _

"_MEG!" A voice snarled from above, and suddenly Meg woke up._

* * *

"_Meg! Can you hear me? Meg?"_

Meg's eyes cracked open, and all she could see was the light from comm. link she'd forgotten she had had strapped to her forearm. Typical. Typical hot-headed, harebrained fool that she always was…

She closed her eyes again, an involuntary groan escaping her lips. If she'd thought she'd been in pain _before_… her breath hitched painfully, and she was dead certain she'd cracked a rib again. The doc was going to kill her. Groaning again, Meg forced herself to a sitting position, her eyes working to resolve the darkness around her.

Burying her face in her hand, she grumbled into the comm. link,

"Yeah, I hear you, Sei."

"_Thank god. Ever since you vanished off the radar-" _Sei's voice cut off abruptly before demanding, _"What the hell happened?"_

"Kruegar," Meg muttered as she removed her goggles from her eyes, rubbing them clean with her free hand. "Why didn't you tell me he was a goddamn _cyborg_? I would have done this whole thing differently if I'd known before I'd engaged!"

Or would she have? The confirmation of Maria's life and interest in Meg was certainly a valuable piece of information… Meg quashed the thought. No need for Sei to know that.

"_When would I have told you that, Meg? After you'd run off to engage the enemy before getting the full intel on the situation? After you vanished from the _Elizabeth _completely? After Hirao nearly blew your head off? Or maybe while you rejected all our attempts to contact you and send in Jango R?" _Sei's voice was mildly acidic, and with good reason, Meg supposed.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell me some other time. I was fighting Kruegar, that little shit of an agent interferes and I go chasing Kruegar through the whole city. We get to the abandoned construction sites, and then Ormicon shows up. Kruegar does this thing and collapses the ground below us, and here we are." Meg let her goggles fall down around her neck, sighing. "Where am I, Sei?"

There was silence as Sei digested Meg's report.

"_If I could hazard a guess, you are in the derelict subway. It was abandoned when the old president of RAPT turned monster and began tearing up the lines. The government has more worries to take care of than restoring a line that's no longer used. I'm sure you remember that Jo was called in to take out the beast before it did any more harm."_

_It was also the beginning of the end of our world, _Sei's implied words continued on.

"Right." Meg squinted in the darkness around her, searching for the familiar but unwelcome shape of the cyborg's body. "Kruegar seems to have high-tailed it out of here. No body, just a bit of green blood."

_It seems as though I got a few good hits on him, _the smugger part of Meg's mind crowed, though she didn't voice her satisfaction. Perhaps it was best to leave the bragging for now, when Sei wasn't as annoyed with her.

"_So he left when Ormicon showed up. Interesting. For now, Kruegar is not our target to pursue, and I mean that, Meg. Just find your way out of the subway and return to the Elizabeth. Amy will upload maps to the comm., so follow those to find an exit. How are you holding up?"_

"The usual," Meg laughed, climbing to her feet and ignoring the dizzying spin in her head. "Dr. Irukon is going to kill me."

"_Not if I see you first." _

It was with that tart remark that Sei cut off communication. Meg grimaced, looking around the rubble that surrounded her, and then craned her neck up. The sky was a patch of blue high above her, and she had to wonder how far she'd fallen, and how she survived. There were no signs of Ormicon's hired men, and no way could Meg hope to make it up to the surface from here. The debris from above made passage in one direction impossible. In Meg's condition it was, anyhow. It'd have been tough going even if she'd been one hundred percent.

Chewing her lip in frustration, Meg had to admit there was really no other option than to continue on. The risk of encountering Kruegar was greatly increased, and she really didn't want to hurt herself any more than she already had. In her disarmed and weak state, she was certain she would not come out of that meeting alive, no matter how unpredictable the madman could be. Meg started down the darkened subway, the small LCD flashlight lighting her way as she limped over the rubble.

The concrete walls were crammed with graffiti and anti-RAPT slogans, with the scatterings of wanted posters causing Meg to wonder how often this section of the subway had actually been used since the closure. She stored it in the back of her mind for future reference; if things in Shibuya slowed down, perhaps the darker elements of Tokyo would move here. It was certainly inaccessible enough.

She wasn't sure how long she walked down the dark tunnels, following the blurry and outdated map of the subway Amy had uploaded. Many of the exit routes had been blocked off by an avalanche of rubble – that made Meg frown a little. It blocked the obvious exits, but following that, it blocked the obvious entries to the abandoned subway. Had it been intentional? Meg's fingers itched for the comfort of her guns. There was really no use – she doubted she'd be seeing those guns again, lost to either the subway or Ormicon.

As the blockages drove Meg deeper into the labyrinth, she paused by a large section of concrete that had been ripped from the walls. She wet her lips suddenly, her ears straining through the oppressive silence. Every nerve in her body felt afire – she could hear the faint scratching of rodent claws over rock, the drip of water down iron –

There it was. The sound of a motor humming, of wheels grinding over rubble. Meg's eyes narrowed as the sound drew closer. It seemed to be approaching her position at quite a pace –

Meg ducked behind the slab of concrete, her breath frozen in her throat as a set of high-powered headlights rounded the bend. A small truck, Meg decided to herself as it drew near, unmarked and mistreated. She crouched in apprehensive silence as the lights passed by, and made her split-second decision. Ignoring the stab in her ribs, she surged from out behind the slab and hooked her battered fingers around the bars at the rear of the truck and hoisted herself onto it without missing a beat. There was no change in the truck's speed.

_Looks like I made it without being detected. In your face, Amy! I have stealth when I need it!_

There was really no reason to keep walking if she could hitch a ride with these guys, was there? Meg pressed a hand to her side gently, and then forced her mind onto other things.

As lucky as she was to find a truck down here – of all places – some things were too weird to be put up to coincidence. Things like guards patrolling what was meant to be an abandoned subway section. What were they doing down here? How had they gotten down here, if all the entrances were blockaded? Was something down here?

A chill went through her stomach as the truck took a turn from the main tunnel, into an area that had been marked on Meg's maps as unusable. Clearly, Amy's maps were out of date. 'Unusable' her butt…

The truck began to slow without warning, jolting Meg out of her thoughts. Biting back a curse, Meg craned her neck around the side of the truck for a quick look. It appeared to be some sort of construction, thrown into harsh relief by the truck's strong headlights. A few lights flashed from a small camera tucked into the corner of the structure.

_A security checkpoint, _Meg surmised grimly. She wondered how many of those she'd passed under while stumbling in the dark tunnels, then squashed the thoughts ruthlessly. No time for ifs, buts or maybes…

As the truck slowed to a stop, the engine grinding to an unsteady halt, Meg bit her lip as she heard the front doors creak open.

"Damn security checks," one man grumbled as he slammed the truck's door shut. Meg ducked back behind the truck, her mind working furiously. They'd probably do a quick check for things out of the norm, she decided. Just a quick one – maybe she shouldn't even be worried.

"I swear, you bitch about this every single time," the other man complained, his flashlight darting over the rubble in the distance past Meg. "It gets really old, man."

"Shut your mouth, you insolent pup. Respect your elders."

"_Elders_? You're a few _months_ older than I am!"

"Point still stands. Let's just keep going, sooner we get there the sooner we can leave. That way she won't be able to tell us we didn't do our job this time."

Meg heard the crunch of gravel as the first man turned to get back in the truck. The cabin's door slammed shut unceremoniously, leaving Meg and the second man alone. The man muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath, switching his flashlight off.

Meg breathed a sigh of relief as the second door clicked shut and the engine roared to life once more. She adjusted her grip on the bars at the back of the truck as it began to move again, further into the labyrinth subway and past the checkpoint. Meg carefully swung around to the side of the truck as they passed beneath the security camera, wary of being caught. With such security on an _abandoned subway_, it really brought up a few questions.

Where were they going? What was their purpose down here? Meg considered signalling Bai-Lan for any information they could dredge up on this place, but decided against it. The signal would be like a beacon if they passed beneath another checkpoint. She also wasn't sure if she wanted to deal with Amy just yet, either…

* * *

Sei rubbed her temples, looking down at Amy. The girl who'd been Sei's near-constant companion since the formation of her Bai-Lan cell had been treated, a bandage wrapped around her head and under her bangs. The hacker still looked a little dazed by the impact with the keyboard, and Sei and forced her to stay awake and aware since they'd finally gotten through to Meg.

"Where's Meg now?" Amy drawled, blinking a few times to clear her eyes.

"Abandoned subway," Sei nodded to the maps.

"The same one with the monster infestation from way back?" the girl yawned widely. "Don't envy her. Worried."

Sei nodded, gently grabbing a hold of Amy's arm and towing her to her feet. It was unlike Amy to talk like this, not without some absurd posturing or vitriolic remarks. Had that keyboard hit her hard enough to concuss her? Sei's lips thinned – Amy would have to go to Irukon now, she decided suddenly. She was no good to Sei as she was, and Nana and Hachi could finish cataloguing the damage to the hold in peace, even without their leader.

The hallways were full of Bai-Lan agents that had been recalled to counter a now non-existent threat, Sei noted with disgust at herself. There was no threat _now, _now that all of her agents had been recalled from their missions.

She internally cursed. How would this cost their operations? She knew of a few more delicate ones that had been interrupted…

The harried Bai-Lan leader dropped Amy off at the doctor's office with a nurse that had been called in. Doctor Irukon had taken charge of any first aid needed down at the holds, the nurse told Sei distractedly as she ushered the hurt girl into the office. Sei nodded her thanks, and quickly made her way down to the ruins of what had been the hold of the _Elizabeth. _

The air had a slight acrid quality to it, and a faint haze of smoke still shrouded the hallways. She pushed her way past a few of her agents, her brow creasing as she took in the damage. A few days ago, she would have been surprised at the lengths Ormicon had gone to, just to get their hands on the body of an insane vagrant. Of course, a few days ago she hadn't known that the man's body was a goldmine of the finest RAPT technology, a war machine that hadn't yet been activated. The parts that could have been salvaged would have been worth a fortune in contacts, in technology, in respect and prominence in their field.

Perhaps, had Bai-Lan been in that kind of business, she'd have jumped at the chance herself. Doubtless, the council would be up in arms over the loss of such income – not that it would be any different from usual. The Council of Five disliked having a don with power and the strength of will to use it.

She wondered if her grandfather had been like her, once – defiant of the council, making his own way as the world's problems reached boiling point and many countries self destructed under the pressure.

"Don Laoban!"

Sei's head turned automatically to the name, and she offered the approaching man a smile. Jon Black had been one of Sei's first employees after the RAPT coup d'état, a man who had canvassed the ruins of RAPT HQ tirelessly, for the sole reason that it was his job. He'd been employed by RAPT in Japan, following the self destruction of the United State's economy and the increasing anarchy in the states. Now, he belonged to Sei and Bai-Lan.

"Just Sei, Jon," Sei told him firmly, walking forwards to the hole blown in the hold of her ship. She could see that their area of the wharf had been sectioned off by her agents. There were a few groups of bystanders gawking at the gap in the large ship's armour. Her mouth thinned; there wasn't much they could do about the gawkers.

"Sei, then," Black agreed affably, stopping a few feet behind her. "Just the usual opinion, or was there something else?"

"I need to confirm my suspicions, first. Currently, what do you believe happened?" Sei watched a pair of her agents chase away a group of onlookers that got too close to the containment line, waiting as Black ordered his thoughts and his deductions.

"Right now? I believe there was something with immense firepower contained in here." She felt him shrug. "I have no idea what, but it was enough to take out the Ormicon guys over there and then create an explosion big enough to blow through the _Elizabeth's _reinforced armour. That stuff's the best you can buy, but that thing was strong enough to blast through it like cheap Perspex. It's not a question of _if _you had something in here that Ormicon wanted badly. It's a question of _what._"

Black had always been sharp, so Sei waited a few moments for him to continue. What conclusions could he draw, with limited intelligence on the situation?

He sighed.

"By the layout of the hold and the extra topping of security set up here –"

Sei raised an eyebrow at that. How had he known about Amy's surveillance and the agent shifts?

"-I'd say you knew what you had, Sei, and you had it laid out on the bench in the centre of the room. Judging by the lack of restraints, you didn't believe it would become the threat it did, but you _did _expect Ormicon to come and claim it. Given the unique green compound I found on that bench, I'd say either a RAPT-brand mutant or a RAPT-brand cyborg. Since there is a liberal spray of bullets in the hall, it's the latter."

She smiled. "Very good, Jon. So given the security, that I told Ormicon that I would not be eagerly handing the body over, why would they risk a business relationship with a powerful organization, over what looked to them to be a homeless RAPT prisoner?"

"They knew, of course. Maybe that's why they hired Bai-Lan. Not to keep the Ormicon president safe, but to put the dangerous cyborg out of commission without wasting their own manpower? To a company like that, hiring Bai-Lan would be a mere pittance compared to what they could gain from the cyborg's parts."

Sei stared thoughtfully out over the bay. "So they knew. How? And why did Kruegar intend to kill Morholt? The bomb threat was certainly real enough," she told Black grimly.

"Who knows? Maybe Morholt had links to RAPT, back in the day."

"Maybe," Sei said, deliberately non-committal as she looked around the clearing hold. Doctor Irukon was bent over the bodies of her agents now, his work on the Ormicon men done. Lingering at the hold entrance, though, was a boy. Not much older than fifteen, Hirao had joined Bai-Lan's agents a year or so ago. Sei had been apprehensive about his age, before being forcefully reminded by the council that she had been fourteen when she first started working on Bai-Lan's raids, and that many of her personal team had been under seventeen.

The boy was gifted, certainly. There wasn't a better shot around. But the pale-haired boy had a sullen look about him, as if it inconvenienced him greatly to be a part of Bai-Lan and on equal footing with the other agents. There was an anger, simmering just beneath the calm surface of his eyes that made Sei feel… reluctant to trust him with major missions.

She turned away from him, allowing Black to return to his job and walking over to where the doctor was busily checking over the burnt remains of the two agents that had been on duty. She tightened her hand into a fist, feeling the scarred skin stretch taut. They had been unfortunate indeed.

"What can you tell me, Doctor?" Sei asked the crouching man in a low voice, kneeling down beside him as he gently turned over the corpse with his gloved hands.

Irukon looked over his square-rimmed glasses at her, meeting her eyes forcefully. Polite, but unscrupulous indeed.

"The Ormicon men most certainly killed our agents. Lorn and Hendrik were shot several times. Doesn't match the shots on the Ormicon men, no."

Sei watched as Irukon peeled the burned clothes from Hendrik, before pushing her sick fascination aside. No use wondering what the coroners would have done to her body, had she not survived the RAPT HQ assault.

"So Ormicon came in, blasted our troops. Kruegar woke up and mowed them down, then opened a hole in my ship, all in a matter of around about a second?" Sei sighed. Why were things getting complicated?

"Seems that way to me, Don Laoban," Irukon told her smoothly as he motioned for a pair of agents to place some body bags next to him. Sei pushed herself to her feet, her mind working.

There was a lot going on here, she decided grimly as she left the hold. There was a lot she didn't know yet – she'd have to be careful. No good showing her cards, not before she was certain. Her mouth tightened, and she wondered how Meg was faring in her journey back to the surface. She debated sending troops in to fetch the wayward agent, but decided against it. Meg was fully capable of finding her own way back.

There was really no need for Bai-Lan to waste any more resources today than it already had.

* * *

By Meg's count, they were travelling an hour before the truck finally began to slow again, squeaking to a halt. Meg took a breath, leaning around the side of the truck again as the engine shuddered and died. They had arrived at a large hollow in the track, with a featureless but derelict concrete building in the centre. Her eyes narrowed, and she quickly strapped her goggles on. She doubted that this building had been here, back when the rails had still been in use. Which meant that it was less than five years old, and had been built to stay out of the eye of the Hanshin-Tokyo police force. Suddenly, the blockaded entrances made a little more sense.

They hadn't wanted to keep people in – they had wanted to keep people _out. _She was certain of it.

"You really think the clean-up crew duty is necessary?" the 'older' man asked as he got out of the truck's cabin, stretching loudly. Meg eyed him – he was a big man, maybe twenty-five to thirty years old. Physically fit, but his movements lacked the control of a trained fighter.

"After all these years? They barely need guys like us anymore," the 'younger' man agreed, leaning against the front of the truck and pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Harvey, you got a light?"

"Palm me off one of those, and I might," the older was grinning. There was a pause as both lit up. "Evac on this place has been officially put at a week ago, when a couple of fools made it past the checkpoints and managed to get away from the elimination crew. Couldn't risk them going to the coppers, so Grenville ordered speedy evac of the major equipment and subjects. Since there's still a bit left over, this old cleaning crew has been sent in to get rid of the dirty laundry." The older began to pace up and down the length of the truck.

"God, I hate clean-up," the younger complained. Meg edged around the back of the vehicle, soundless as possible. She tried to time her steps with the older man's, trying to cover the sound of her footsteps on gravel with his. The younger man's head came into view. He was blissfully unaware of the danger as Meg mentally calculated the force she'd need to take him out.

"Now who's bitching?"

"Heh," the younger snickered, pushing himself up from the truck and flicking the stub of his cigarette away. "Whatever, man."

Meg ducked back into the darkness as the younger man rounded the front of the truck, passing from the safety of the headlights and into Meg's territory. She watched him approach silently, then swiftly stepped into his path.

The man's eyes had just enough time to widen in shock before her hand crashed into the side of his neck, stunning him. She knocked his feet from under him and stepped behind him in one smooth motion, catching his dead weight against her and locking her arms around his neck in a chokehold, ignoring the sudden explosion of pain from her side. He twitched, scrabbling uselessly at her arms for a moment, but his body quickly slackened. She pressed her bared fingers to the pulse at his neck before nodding, panting from the fresh wave of pain. Just enough to knock him out for a bit, Meg surmised. That was all she'd needed.

She gently and soundlessly lowered the man to the rubble-strewn ground, knowing that the easy part was over. She had to get the bigger one before he realized what was happening and radioed for help. Her cracked ribs were making it hard to breathe – taking him out had been harder than she'd thought… Meg gritted her teeth.

"Kent?" the older man asked suddenly, as Meg straightened. He was inside the truck now, scratching around at whatever supplies they'd brought. "Can you give me a hand unloading these barrels? Too much for one man, y'know."

Meg nodded to herself as she silently moved around. She leaned on the outside of the truck, slipping on her glove again, tensing her hands into fists. She had to do this fast – her ribs weren't going to let her win an all-out brawl with this huge guy. One lucky hit to the torso and she'd be out.

_If you're going to do it, do it quickly and cleanly, _that cold voice in her head told her bluntly – Meg flexed her sore arms and clenched her fists again, waiting.

"Yo! Kent! Seriously! Get your arse in here and help!"

She didn't have to wait for long as Harvey cursed loudly, his heavy footsteps thundering to the rear of the vehicle. The man peered outside, his eyes searching for Kent. It was all Meg needed as she smashed her fist into the unwary man's jaw, sending him staggering against the side of the truck. Flinching at the pain in her ribs, Meg frowned, looking at her fist. It felt like it was bruising already, so that strike should have knocked him flat. Maybe she'd have to hit him harder next time, if her damn ribs would let her.

"Oh _Jesus!_" Harvey roared, lurching over to the rear of the truck and stumbling down the steps. "Damnit, what the hell?"

Meg slipped behind him silently, planting her leg behind him and wrenching him off balance. She gasped, trying to ignore the pain as his full weight fell on her, her ribs burning cruelly. Using his own weight against him, she caught him in a chokehold, resisting his flailing attempts at hitting her until he stilled. With a grunt, she released him, gently lowering the large man to the ground. His fluttering pulse told her that he'd survived her brutal treatment of him, and she nodded. Now, what to do with these idiots…?

The truck's open doors caught her eye, and Meg smirked. Using a few lengths of twine she found by rummaging in the supplies, she bound the pair's wrists together behind them, before binding the men to the back of the truck.

_There, _Meg nodded as she finished. _Easy, right? _

She pressed a hand to her ribs again, flinching at the pain the light pressure caused. God, she hoped she wasn't going to encounter any more people in this place. She wasn't sure she could subdue any others. These two had been risky enough.

She sighed and straightened, favouring her left side as she began to walk towards the large concrete building. Unlike the rest of the subway, the featureless walls were free of anti-RAPT slogans and graffiti. It certainly looked worse for wear, yes, but it was _clean. _That was troubling enough in itself. If that was so, and the cleaner's talk was to be believed, there had been a significant guard posted here. She frowned as she neared the building, staring up at it with a feeling of dawning apprehension starting in her stomach.

The large, sliding metal doors had been left open and unlocked, Meg noted as she slid into the darkness of the building. She activated her flashlight with a flick of her wrist, locating the light switch quickly and powering on the building's lights.

It was a big, empty room at first glance – probably a loading room or a storage facility. Perhaps it had been used in a drug syndicate's operations? Meg stepped forwards, her footsteps echoing loudly in the silence. The lights were well maintained, however mistreated the outside of the building had been. She supposed the two cleaners had been right, that the syndicate had only left here recently.

A small passageway leading from the main loading room caught her searching eyes, and Meg followed the bend of the corridor slowly. Her hands itched for her guns – a useless feeling, but that didn't stop the feeling that she was walking unarmed into certain danger. The passageway was not long, and was relatively well lit when it opened into a smaller, cluttered room full of broken parts of… something.

Meg's brow creased as she surveyed the broken parts.

_Abandoned quickly, for sure, _Meg thought as she threaded her way through the littering of broken pipes, shattered glass and weaponry.

_Sure, I guess it could be the work of a drug ring, but…_

Meg knelt, sifting her gloved fingers through the shattered glass. It was thickened and reinforced. It didn't really speak of a drug ring's prep labs.

She slowly got to her feet, letting herself favour her left side as she moved on, passing the room with the broken equipment and into the next – a smaller room this time, but with more intact equipment. Large tubes lined the walls, some empty, some cracked open, some full of a liquid with –

_Cyborg parts? People? _

Their eyes were empty and glazed, staring past Meg and into the oblivion beyond. Dead already, dead for years. Some had odd growths, bulging veins, bones protruding from their flesh like horns or spikes. Meg pressed her hands to the smooth surface of the reinforced glass, her mind working. The sick certainty in her gut was almost too much as she looked into the last few tubes.

_Cybernetic brains, just like so long ago._

Meg swallowed suddenly as she followed the only logical conclusion to that thought.

_RAPT. _

A deserted RAPT base, only recently abandoned. Her mind ticked over. This was the closest she'd been in four whole years of chasing the elusive RAPT shadow.

She grinned suddenly. If they'd only just been here, then maybe, just maybe, there'd be some clues to follow.

Leaving the room behind her, she threaded her way through the warren of rooms, seeking out something; she wasn't sure what. A map, a hint as to where their next base was. Some sort of network she could give to Amy to hack into, some notion of _who _RAPT was now, how they could elude everything Bai-Lan and the police threw at them so _thoroughly_. Anything.

Finally, Meg came to what seemed to be a command room. A large computer – dead now, and probably wiped clean, too – was built at the far end, the screen seeming to take up the entire wall. She scanned the other walls, seeking out a large map of the lab. It had been near torn off the wall, as if the vandal had been in a great rush, leaving only half the map usable now.

_Holding cells, _Meg read on the remaining good half of the map. _Not far from here, tucked in behind the equipment room. I wonder. And if I find something? Worse, what if I find nothing? _

_Better to act now, than regret later, _the more logical part of her rationalized, and Meg nodded to herself. Galvanised, the mercenary made her way to the area of the laboratory that had been labelled as the RAPT holding cells. Had Kruegar been in a place like this, all these years he'd been under RAPT arrest? She shuddered as the twisted cybernetic parts, floating in formaldehyde came to mind.

_Jo, hold on a bit longer for me. _

The area allegedly known as the 'holding cells' was definitely worse for wear than the rest of the laboratory, Meg surmised with a scowl as she eased the sliding doors open. The walls were dirty and scuffed, the lights flickering, dimmed. Then again, this was RAPT. They had no minimum standards for their prisoners. There was a strange smell in the air; she couldn't quite place it.

On the far wall of the room, there was a line of ten cells, each of the doors painted in the same whitewash as the rest of the lab's interior, the paint scuffed and scratched, the windows barred. Meg swallowed, walking silently to the first cell.

She gagged as the reek of rotting flesh suddenly made itself known – she stumbled backwards, trying to shove the image of the blood-smeared white walls, the hands still locked in metal cuffs to the walls, hewed off from the arms and _oh god the smell-_

Meg took a shaky breath, trying to calm her ragged nerves. She knew all about RAPT, she knew how violent they could be, how ruthless, she _knew damnit. _

_Yeah, right, _the traitorous voice in the rear of her mind whispered.

The voice was right. She hadn't been prepared to come face to face with RAPT's worst, she realized dully as she approached the windows of the second cell.

How the hell could she face Jo if she didn't even have the nerve to view RAPT at its very worst? Meg clenched her teeth, galvanising herself. She could – _would_ – do this.

The next few cells held the scattered remains of bodies – a few cybernetic parts, a few bones that the rats had already picked clean, a foot here, a hand there. As the cell numbers went on, the larger the amount of remains became. A shattered torso, a head with the mouth still bared in a scream of agony. Meg squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, forcing herself to look at this objectively. Look at it like it didn't bother her, just pretend _it didn't bother her, _what would Jo do in her position?

Meg opened her eyes, steeling herself again. The rooms looked eerily similar to the room on the tape stills that the RAPT employee had sent her. Yes, it had to have been here or somewhere very similar, maybe a lab built with an identical plan. This whole thing could easily be a thousand square metres all up; maybe Amy could run a list of possibilities and algorithms to suss out potential lab locations. Disused areas, just like this one. Mysterious blockades, a reluctance by the government to do anything about the abandoned area…

Her mouth tightened as she unbolted the final cell's door. A battered-looking camera was tucked into the upper right hand corner of the cell, pointed at the filthy, blood-splattered mattress.

_Less blood than the others, _Meg thought vaguely, kneeling by the bed and fingering the blood-caked restraints. _No body parts left over, either. So is this just an old cell, or was the specimen important enough to move to the new location?_

There were a few lumps of darker grey substance smeared on the head of the mattress, and Meg brushed them with the tips of her gloved fingers. As the lumps crumbled away from her, the sense of déjà vu washed over her mind.

_Just like before, _she mused. _Remnants of the cybernetic brains. But I thought Sei destroyed the central brain? _

Meg's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. _Maybe they've constructed a new one? Perhaps that's why they've kept Jo alive. Maybe they needed someone already attuned to the proper wavelength…? Since Jo is the only survivor of Project Zero…_

She straightened slowly, taking care of her cracked ribs. Maybe it was time to patch a signal through to the _Elizabeth, _to let them know what she'd found and to get a proper investigation by Bai-Lan going. Maybe Sei would be a little easier on the lecture she was bound to give Meg on her return, Meg hoped sourly as she checked the signal on her comm. link.

_Huh, that's odd. No signal now. Maybe I'm further underground than I thought…? Or this place has jammers all over it. _Meg nearly threw the comm. link at the wall. _Damn it all. _

Meg sighed, rubbing her ribs. The limp back towards the command room long, her mind racing with all this new information she'd found. All the possibilities, the options… She leaned against the wall, trying to catch her shortened breath. The sooner she got out of here, though, the better. Pushing herself off again, she crossed the command room quickly before slumping into the chair at the large screen.

"Now," she muttered distractedly. "What did Amy say about patching signals again…? Argh, damn it!" She wished she'd paid a little more attention while the hacker had explained how to hijack unused networks and channels. It seemed like ages ago now.

She switched on the computer and large monitor. While the preset communication channels would be wiped, along with all of the lab information, Meg was fairly certain she might be able to send a simple, outgoing signal in the usual Bai-Lan code. After that, it would just be a matter of Nana and Hachi tracing back the signal to the source and sending teams into the subway for a full recovery operation.

She just thanked whatever gods were listening, that the communication equipment was still working. Perhaps the cleanup crews hadn't gotten around to the switch, yet.

Meg couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as she finalized the code, sending it spiralling out into the ether and hoped to god that Amy, Nana or Hachi came across it soon. Leaning back in her chair, she laid a gentle hand on her ribs. Yeah, it'd be nice to get out of here soon.

A beeping from the empty monitor alerted her to an incoming video call – did she want to accept? Meg snorted, confirming the request. The video call flickered onto the large screen – Meg's eyes widened in shock.

A pair of red, narrowed eyes gazed out of the screen and into Meg's. A cold smile played across the other's lips, her long silver hair cut short now. Meg swallowed – it had been a very long time since she'd personally witnessed the deranged stare that could only be Maria's.

"Greetings, Meg," the visage of Maria smirked down at the surprised woman. She seemed relaxed, like she'd been expecting to see Meg right there, right then.

Meg's chair fell backwards, and the redhead slowly realized that she was on her feet, crouched in a battle stance. No matter – not when the white hot rage was flowing through her veins like magma.

"Maria," Meg bit out, her teeth bared in a snarl. "What the hell do you want?"

Maria seemed to chortle at her ferocity, tilting her head to the side as if observing a small child at play. "Such a loud bark, for such a helpless bitch."

"_Helpless?" _the mercenary spat, unable to believe Maria's gall. After all she'd been through, after _all she'd improved-_

"Can't see the forest for the trees," Maria sighed, leaning forwards. Meg had a clear view of her ample cleavage. "I always liked that about you, Meg. So innocent, in spite of your job."

"Good for you. Now what do you want?" There was little chance Maria would let slip her current location; that meant that the genocide angel had a reason for contacting Meg here, now. She had to find out what it was, before she threw a cybernetic arm through the screen in a fit of rage.

Maria sighed again, this one sounding almost regretful. Meg wasn't fooled for a moment.

"There are things in this world that are far bigger than you, Meg. There are things bigger than I, as well. And it all connects at one place – and I'm sure you know where."

If she'd been a dog, Meg's hackles would have been raised.

"Jo."

The woman on the comm. link nodded, smiling cruelly again - and then slammed a formaldehyde jar on the control panel at the other end of the link. Something was floating in it – Meg frowned. Something small-

She gagged. It was a red eye, nerves and all, bobbing up and down in the clear liquid. Meg barely heard Maria's whispered threat, but she did.

"So, I'm sure you see it now, Meg. If you don't call off your little search for our research specimen, I just may take the other, too."


	8. For Great Justice!

Sei leaned on her elbows, her hands clasped under her chin as she looked between Meg and Amy, her dark eyes searching for any arguments. Meg polished the dust flecks off her new Desert Eagles, trying to seem absorbed in the task while listening to Sei's instructions intently. It had been a skill Jo had used frequently, she recalled – a look of boredom, but accompanied by a keen memory for detail.

"This should not be a long mission," Sei told them gravely. "Amy has already narrowed the base to one of five possible locations. Agents have been dispatched to the sites, and are working on confirming the presence of the goods we seek. The Longinues family are eager to obtain their family heirlooms, you see."

Amy yawned widely, and then began to toy with a stray lock of hair. "What a boring job. Theft recovery for the lose."

Sei looked at the hacker levelly. "We take what we can get, Amy. Bai-Lan has lost a sizable amount of agents – we need to appropriately recoup our loses before we are able to accept any large-scale missions again."

Meg bit back the first thing that came to mind – there was always the RAPT case to work on. Always. But there had been no new developments on that front in half a month now, not since Meg had found the abandoned subway laboratory and spoken to Maria. For every day that passed, Meg's gut got a little heavier, a little more anxious. She supposed the worry was getting to her – every moment that they struggled after Jo was a moment that Jo was in RAPT's hands.

She'd been unable to capture the video call from Maria, nor had she been in the presence of mind to do so after she'd seen the contents of the… jar…

Even the combined efforts of Nana, Hachi and Amy had been unable to trace the source of the video, Meg remembered uneasily. RAPT was still just outside their grasp, a wisp of vapour that they knew was there, but could never catch. Nothing in the lab had indicated the next RAPT location, much to Meg's frustration.

Meg snapped back to the present as Amy waved a hand in front of her eyes.

"Gawd, I thought you'd finally slipped into dementia," Amy told her haughtily, turning back to Sei with a sniff.

The offended redhead crossed her arms over her chest. "I am not that old," she complained loudly.

With a groan, Sei rested her face in her hand, obviously unable to deal with the usual vitriolic banter that day. More and more, it seemed like her position as Bai-Lan's leader was draining the vitality and life from Sei. Now that she thought about it, Meg was unable to remember the last time she'd seen Sei relax. She looked tired.

"Just be ready to move out tomorrow morning," Sei told them in exasperation. "Do as you like until then. Dismissed."

Meg rose quickly, glad to be done with the briefing today. A boring briefing for a boring mission, that was for sure, no matter what the situation at Bai-Lan was. She itched for some action – her injuries had healed, and now she was bitten by the bug to move around.

Amy followed her out of Sei's quarters, easily falling into pace at Meg's side as they quickly made their way down the _Elizabeth's _halls. As they walked, Meg noted that Amy was stealing sidelong glances at her.

Odd.

"Have I got something on my face?" Meg drawled as she stopped at her room, not bothering to shield the code from Amy as she unlocked the door. The hacker had proved, time and time again, that such measly security measures meant nothing to her 'mad skills'.

Amy hesitated, leaning on the wall next to her. Meg rolled her eyes, waiting.

"What are your plans?" the hacker asked, suddenly.

_Huh, she never asks what my plans are, _Meg thought dryly. Maybe she should humour her younger colleague…? The mercenary shrugged, giving Amy a grin.

"I'm waiting on some new intel on a few hits I've been contacted about," she told the girl next to her, not bothering to add that she'd basically ignored those deals since the RAPT project came to the forefront of her mind. "After that, I guess I'm going to the firing range on the edge of town."

"Sounds like a _real_ blast," Amy said, rolling her eyes. "God, you're almost as bad as Jo used to –" the hacker suddenly cut herself off, realizing her mistake.

"Jo is," Meg finished for her. The good mood in her soured a little. "Yeah, Jo's always like that." She was very careful not to talk about the missing woman in the past tense. Jo was _alive. _She knew that for sure. Or did she? Had Maria killed her already? Had Meg's subtle efforts to locate the new RAPT base angered Maria, causing her to hurt Jo?

Meg shook her head, realizing that she'd been staring into the distance. She gave Amy a smile that she didn't feel.

"Meg… We're worried about you, you know?" Amy's voice was a little hesitant. "Sei, Leo, me… we're doing the best we can to find her, but you gotta remember that it isn't easy. They're good at hiding."

Forcing herself to ignore the yawning pit of worry in her stomach, Meg slung her arm around Amy's shoulders, pulling the hacker close and pressing their cheeks together in a show of exaggerated affection. Amy spluttered, struggling to get away from Meg even as the mercenary cooed,

"Aww, ickle Amy's worried about me?" Meg released the wriggling girl quickly, dodging a wildly-flung elbow that would have gotten her healing ribs.

The hacker's brown eyes narrowed in anger as her cheeks flushed. "No! I mean, not any more! You stupid, fat cow," the offended girl huffed, stamping off. "I got a call to make. Try to make sure that big ass of yours doesn't get caught on the way in to your room!"

Meg smirked. "So long as that big ego of yours doesn't get stuck in the door first."

Her smile faded as she heard Amy's stomps fade into the distance. She slipped into her room quickly, locking the door quickly behind her. Her throat felt tight as she leaned her forehead against the metal of the door, and she forced herself to breathe out.

God only knew what triggered her these days. Honestly, Amy hadn't meant it. For her, Jo had been dead for five years. For Meg, she'd been stolen. Her fingers curled into fists so tight that the leather creaked.

She wanted to be doing something, _anything. _These stupid, low-key missions Sei was handing out were driving her crazy, the progress on the RAPT front was going nowhere. And damnit, if they didn't find something soon, the trail would go cold and she'd _never _find Jo.

Meg sagged, moving over to her bed and collapsing on it with a groan. Blindly, she reached out for the tattered cream scarf, fumbling with her gloves until she felt the worn wool on her skin. It was soft, probably the softest thing Jo ever allowed herself to wear. Meg rolled onto her back, staring at the scarf clenched in her hand.

_Five years gone by. Jo, where are you? Would you be proud of me?_

She tried to imagine warmth in the gunner's eyes, but came up empty. It had been a long time since Jo had truly smiled at her, even before the RAPT HQ incident. Meg let her hand fall back onto her forehead, the soft scarf touching her cheek.

Sometimes she wondered if Jo's fondness for her was fading. In that final year together, as partners in Bai-Lan, Meg had gone from being self-sufficient and _worthy _to a… a…

"Freaking _damsel in distress!" _she bit out. The rawness hurt in her heart. That had been why Jo had left her on that beach. She'd been a burden to Jo. If only she'd tried a little harder, worked harder, actually did something, then maybe Jo wouldn't have had to choose to leave her on the beach. Maybe they would have gone together, as partners. Not as Jo and her _fangirl_. Meg's teeth clenched –

The speaker-phone by her bed crackled suddenly, that familiar but impersonal voice coming from it.

"Ms Mitarai, we have detected an incoming video call for you. Would you like to receive this call, Ms Mitarai?"

Meg withdrew her arm from her eyes, willing herself to calm the hell down. It was Hachi this time, though few would notice the difference between the two robots.

Breathing out, Meg pushed herself up and swung her legs around. She quickly combed her fingers through her hair to make herself presentable. No need for anyone else to know how dark and self-pitying her thoughts had gotten.

"Who is it this time?" she demanded of the robotic cat-woman on the small screen. Maybe that RAPT employee would give her more information. God, Meg hoped that was the case.

"The caller has made herself known Ms Takane Katsu."

Meg sighed. So much for hoping… "Thanks Hachi, I'll answer. Otherwise Takane will come to Tokyo to kick my ass for 'having a face as long as a horse's', as she'd put it."

There was a moment of silence as Hachi connected the call, then Takane's beaming visage was all over the screen.

"Heya Meg!" The policewoman greeted her energetically, that ever-present bokken rested on her shoulder, tapping up and down. "I ain't heard from you or Amy in a while, so I figured I'd make a small call! Courtesy, y'know?"

Meg forced herself to smile back. "Courtesy, of course," she agreed. "So what's new? Do I have to come down to Osaka and do your job for you again?"

The woman on the screen spluttered loudly, and suddenly that bokken was pointed directly at the video screen. It might have been mildly threatening, had Meg actually been there. As it was, she stifled a laugh.

"I'll have it be known that it was _once. _RAPT mutants weren't exactly our thing back then, and Jango R is specially equipped to deal with that there shit."

"Sure, sure."

"Speaking of _jobs, _I'm currently in your neighbourhood this week, since my da sent me up here to supervise a major operation. I was thinking, we're a tad short on manpower right now. We've got a pretty serious rumble going down near ol' Shibuya." The sword was back on Takane's shoulder, tapping up and down restlessly.

"Huh, that does sound serious. I wondered when you pussy-footers would get to cleaning out Shibuya," Meg drawled, drawing one of her new Desert Eagles. If Takane was going to wave that sword around…

"Don't be thick, Mitarai," Takane snorted. "You think we have the manpower to take Shibuya? We'd be lucky to survive an hour in that hell hole. No, what we're looking at is still pretty damn serious. It's a drug ring, one of the worst we've had to deal. Listen, you wanna come bust some skulls with me? Just like old times, right? C'mon!"

Meg hesitated for a moment. She wasn't sure she could take Takane's enthusiasm for the law today, but…

"Busting some skulls sounds pretty good, actually," the redhead admitted, surprised by the truth in her words. Maybe that was what she needed – some action. She nodded to herself to reaffirm her decision.

"Awesome! You get your ass down to the station now, 'cause we're moving out soon. Don't you hold us up!"

And with that enthusiastic and loud response, the video call clicked off and Meg was staring at a blank screen. She blinked, stretched once and got to her feet. Maybe she'd be getting in over her head, but it had been a while since she'd helped out in a good, old-fashioned drug bust. Holstering her Desert Eagles and packing some extra ammunition, she made her way down to the hangers.

* * *

Her bike's engine shuddered to a halt as she arrived at the Tokyo-Osaka Hanshin Police Initiative's station. She grimaced – that name even sounded like a mouthful in her head, but who could argue with the name when people like Takane were backing it to the hilt? Clearly, they thought TOHPI was a good acronym. Never mind that some of the crims nicknamed them 'dopey TOHPI'…

After the mess RAPT had made of Tokyo, it had been up to the law enforcement in the other major cities to sweep up the debris and restore order. The Hanshin force from Osaka had stepped up to the task, and later the TOHPI had been formed. Meg had welcomed the change, as the Initiative's major goals included the arrest and lawful trials of RAPT and their associates. Bai-Lan had been largely left alone – there were some fish, like Shibuya, the Initiative were unwilling to tackle with so many other major ones to fry.

The station was smaller than RAPT HQ had been – the Initiative favoured smaller, more widely dispersed stations rather than the one solitary fortress in the centre of the city. If there had been one thing Sei's attack on the RAPT HQ had proven, it was not a fantastic idea to put all of your men in one building and hope that nobody blew it up.

Meg swung her leg back over the bike, lowering her goggles to around her neck and walking through the front door of the station. A few of the Initiative employees gave her waves, and Meg had to wonder if she was on the Initiative's watch list as a probably criminal. She tried to keep her more violent activities low key, but her cleanup methods were not exactly perfect.

"Ohayo! Meg!" Takane's brunette head stuck out from one of the briefing rooms, and the policewoman waved her over. Meg approached warily, but Takane grabbed her bicep and tugged – _hard. _Dragging the mercenary into the room, Takane shoved her unceremoniously into a chair at the large table. Meg rubbed her arm sheepishly, giving the people in the room a quick glance over.

_Six Initiative men, and eight Kanbaku, _she noted with a frown. _Plus Takane and myself. Just how heavy is this going to get, if she's calling in favours from her gang? _

"SO!" Takane announced, pacing back and forth, procuring a remote control from the sleeve of her trench coat and flicking on the screen behind her. It was nowhere near the level of tech Bai-Lan packed, but it was good enough.

The details from a few files began to spill out across the screen, the photos of a few men and women plastered over the top.

"Now, what we have here is a not-so small drug ring, thriving in one of the warehouses near that rat nest Shibuya," Takane lectured, whipping out her bokken and tapping one of the first photos on the screen.

"This fella is known as Tom Shates. Far as we know, he's an immigrant who rocked into our city not three years ago, back when he was fourteen. Some orphan kid, got in before the Initiative really got a handle on Tokyo. After he got in, he vanished off the radar. 'til now, that is."

There were a few sniggers from the Kanbaku, and suddenly Meg knew who had tracked Shates down and determined his place in the drug ring. The Kanbaku were everywhere, had sources in every bar in every town. It was little wonder…

"Shates has been determined to be the little mastermind of this whole song and dance. He and his group have named themselves the 'Red Dragons', as creative as that shit is. 'til a few weeks back, these Red Dragons were a fairly harmless little stunt group. Always in the wrong place and the wrong time, but nothing we could ever truly pin on 'em. Nothing too heavy, y'see."

Takane fumbled around with the remote for a second, cursing under her breath before she found the right buttons. The screen changed, and suddenly there was a photo of a powdery substance, followed by a list of psychological symptoms.

"Now, sometime between then and now, they got their mits on some pretty nasty stuff. We got no freaking clue of where it came from, only that this drug they called 'Mirage' is doing some vicious shit to our citizens. Vivid hallucinations, vomiting, fever, loss of co-ordination. The body shuts down, but the brain. The brain is workin' overtime. And this shit has the worst addictive effects we've come across since the Liore drug of '25."

Meg's eyebrows rose. That was quite a statement – Liore had crippled nearly a third of the Osaka underworld before being completely eliminated from the market, except for tiny pockets. For this drug, 'Mirage' to be compared to _that…_

So that was why it was getting so heavy.

"Shates got his hands on this stuff somewhere, and _we gotta learn where. _If there's another load of this stuff out there, we need to know about it. That's why we need to catch Shates and his cronies alive and kickin'. You got that?" Takane clicked the remote again, bringing up the blueprints of a warehouse, tapping the front entrance to the building with her bokken.

_Not far from Shibuya my ass, _Meg noted sourly. _That's on the edge. If the crims there figure out there's a raid going on, you might have a full riot on your hands. _

"Now, you Initiative kids are going to take the front of the warehouse. Make sure you're wearing riot gear, Wilder's gonna lead you, so watch what he says and his word is law. I trust him. You guys are gonna be the A-team."

Wilder, a man with dark hair and a neatly-trimmed goatee nodded. He was a fairly burly man, Meg noted, with scars criss-crossing down both of his arms. From the look of his rank, it looked like he was a sergeant.

"The Kanbaku are taking the side entrances, here and _here,_" Takane told the bokken-wielding women in the room. "I'm gonna leave Kirin and Kagari in charge of the two teams. A, B, and C teams, your task is to secure the entrances and make damn sure nobody gets out. You got that?"

There was a round of nods from the teams, and finally Takane turned to Meg.

"Me and my friend Mitarai are gonna take the back. It's our job to apprehend the assholes leading this shit. I'll do it my way, and I'm sure Mitarai knows how to do it _her _way." Takane's grin was just a little bit savage. God, the woman could be fierce when it came to the law.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, we're gonna make our way to that warehouse and we're gonna bust a few skulls. Nobody screws with the Initiative's civilians, and it's time these Red Dragons learned that."

* * *

It took nearly half an hour for the Initiative and Kanbaku teams to make their way within a few blocks of the Red Dragons' warehouse. Takane arrived a few minutes after Meg had, looking flushed with glee as she vaulted off her bike.

"Man, I love a good drug bust!" the woman declared, looking positively devious as she watched the rest of her team roll up. After the last straggler pulled up, Takane nodded to them, allowing them to disperse. They'd keep in contact via comm. link, Meg was told airily. That's how they'd figure out when everything was in position.

_So casual, _Meg thought with a smirk. _Nothing like Sei's iron discipline at all. Just 'go in, do your worst and try to keep a few people alive to snitch'. _

Takane gave her a wink.

"It's showtime, girl."

The pair of them began to thread their way through the heavy crowds – those they could not moved around, Takane jabbed with her bokken. Meg rolled her eyes – that thing was like Takane's all-in-one tool for everything. Someone annoyed her? Bokken. Someone needed a beating? Bokken. Her bike was out of gas? Bokk- oh wait.

Takane was one person Meg had been able to consistently relate to, had been able to _stand _when Sei's distraction rubbed her raw, when Amy's vindictiveness finally made her snap. There was something about Takane that made it all… not matter. So what if Meg had been unable to track Jo and RAPT down? So what if Meg had failed her latest mission? When Takane was in town, it didn't seem so bad.

_(("People make mistakes, you know? There are plenty of other people who want to beat you up over them, without adding yourself to that list," Takane declared, frowning at her cards. "Say, you got any jokers?"_

"_Go fish."))_

The warehouse came into view just as the sun began to set, staining the building in reds. It was certainly a shoddy looking building, that was for sure. Graffiti and posters covered almost every surface in reach, and what wasn't in reach was peeling and old. It had been a long time since that warehouse's glory days, Meg decided as Takane slowed to a halt.

"A, B, C teams! Status report!" she snapped into the comm. link on her wrist.

"_A-team, in position. Waiting for the good to go."_

"_B-team nearly there. Give us five or so minutes."_

"_C-team ready. Just waiting on those B-team idiots to stop fooling around."_

"Good to hear, guys. Won't be long," she told them, switching off her comm. link and turning to Meg. "I trust you remember what frequency my link's on?"

Meg smirked. "How could I forget?"

"Jo always does," Takane pointed out. "This way. There's a path to our left that goes around the back, but we can't risk bein' seen by some slack-jawed guard who happens to be getting lucky with a hooker in the alley. We're going through the building next to it. It's near-abandoned, mostly homeless folk living there."

The redhead nodded, following Takane through the run-down building next to their goal warehouse. A few of the homeless looked shocked to see a Kanbaku member and a mercenary moving through their shelter. The detour went largely without incident, though, and the two emerged into the darkening alleyways out the back of the warehouse. Meg could have sworn she'd seen a few of the designs before, in the subway-

"You know, Meg, you should be using a bokken today. Nice experience, let me tell you that." Takane's voice was sly as she launched them right back into their repeating argument.

Meg pretended to gawk at Takane. "You seriously want me to use a _toy sword_ against a pack of well-armed drug-runners? Are you insane?"

"Toy sword? Better than your stupid-ass promise to be 'non-lethal'. Non-lethal shot or not, sometimes that's jus' considered wanton assault by an officer of the law!"

"Yeah, and 'bustin' open some skulls' isn't considered assault either, huh?" Meg drawled as they fell into position outside the warehouse's loading dock. She drew both Desert Eagles, double checking the ammunition she had left.

_Fully loaded,_ Meg noted with satisfaction.

"I resent the implication that I am anything other than gentle with my crims," Takane gave a feral grin, and then spoke into her link. "Yo, you guys ready?"

A brief chorus of quiet affirmatives made Takane's smile even wider.

"Then on the count of three then, guys. One, two, _three_!"

Meg blasted the door open with a single, well-placed kick of her iron-shod boot, flicking the safety off her guns and shouting as loud as she could,

"HANSHIN INITIATIVE! WEAPONS DOWN!"

A blast nearly knocked Meg into the other woman as it shook the entire warehouse. Takane whooped, raising her bokken before her face.

"For great justice!" she declared at the top of her lungs, racing forwards and into the warehouse's dark interior.

There was a tangle of panicked voices from ahead as the Kanbaku poured in from the sides, the Initiative blasting in from the front. Smoke clouded Meg's vision, and she lost precious seconds strapping her goggles to her face again.

Gunfire erupted from the centre room – Meg's eyes made out a dozen, give or take, sheltered behind a truck. They were returning the Initiative's gunfire, but they appeared ill-equipped to face a raid from the Initiative. Had they not planned for this possibility at all? She had no idea where Takane had vanished to.

A grin spread across her face as she made out the distinctive figure of Tom Shates crouched by the truck's front wheel, his mouth locked in a snarl of fury as he used a semi-automatic to track Wilder as the man dodged from cover to cover. Meg took her time in aiming for his shoulder, letting a single round fell him. Shates collapsed with a scream.

"Damnit! Fire from behind?" One roared, turning a fraction, his eyes locked on Meg's position and bringing his gun down to open fire on her.

Takane descended from above, knocking him flat with a flick of her bokken. Blood leaked lazily from the head wound he'd sustained. Takane ducked as another man took a wild haymaker swing at her head, and she rammed him with her shoulder as he fell off balance. He fell to the ground, clutching at his mouth as his teeth smashed on the concrete. Determined not to let Takane get the glory, Meg took out another three Red Dragons with a few well-placed shots.

With the Red Dragon's forces dropped below seven, Wilder skidded forwards from the crates he'd taken cover behind. The men his gun tracked fell, the backs of their heads exploding as his rounds tore through. Panting from wrestling and handcuffing a Red Dragon woman, Takane looked up with a curse at the still-shuddering bodies.

"_DAMNIT_ WILDER, I SAID NON-LETHAL!" the cop roared, ducking behind the truck as one of the bigger Red Dragon women lurched towards her. Meg crossed the floor in a flash, her mind racing. She wasn't sure what Takane was up to, but if it'd end this fight quick, she was wholly approving of it.

Meg ducked the wild swing the Red Dragon made, darting in and pistol-whipping her across the face. The woman cried out as pain bloomed in her cheek, and Meg caught hold of her flailing arm and shoved her hip into the woman's side. With a twist, Meg dislocated the woman's arm and threw her against the truck. There was a muttered curse from above, and she lunged to the side as a man on top of the vehicle fired down on her.

Rolling to her feet, Meg angled a volley of quick shots at the man. She swore as none of the shots hit true.

_Where the hell is Takane?_

As if in answer, there was an unsteady creak from above. The redhead craned her neck upwards again – hanging from pulleys fixed to the warehouse rafters and tossing something small and metallic up and down in her free hand, was the wayward cop.

"Think fast!" the woman roared, ripping the pin free with her teeth and hurling the object to the ground. Meg's eyes widened, and then quickly screwed shut. It was nothing lethal, so that limited the possibilities as to what that thing was.

Meg was glad she'd closed her eyes as the device went off, the world flashing around her so brightly that Meg's eyes watered from behind their lids. She wiped them with a sleeve and staggered towards where the remaining Red Dragons had fallen to the ground, groaning and clutching at their eyes. Grimacing, the mercenary put the last three out of their misery with a few well-placed blows to the back of the head.

She glanced up at where Takane had been hanging, giving the cop a quick thumbs up. The woman dropped down to the top of the truck with a resounding thud – Meg was always surprised that Takane didn't seriously hurt herself more often than she did.

The mercenary grinned at Takane as the cop vaulted down off the truck top, panting slightly.

"Geez, you took your time about it all," she told Takane as the woman turned over a few of the Red Dragons, snapping cuffs around their wrists. Now was the boring part – cleaning up the trash.

Takane shrugged. "When you wear the badge, you make the rules. I only jus' thought of that little trick, else I might have mentioned it in the briefing, y'know?"

Meg snorted. "Might have."

"You know me. I like to keep my troops thinking sharp and on their toes."

"So that's what you call such unorthodox procedures these days, Katsu," a gruff voice said from behind Meg. Wilder had two of the Red Dragons by the hair, grinning as they struggled weakly to get free. Meg frowned – the man, frankly, made her skin crawl.

Takane waved a hand. "You say that, Wilder, but you don't mean it. Now slap some handcuffs on these guys. The Kanbaku will watch 'em and take 'em back to the station for processing, to make sure they don't make a cryin' bid for freedom. You, Mitarai and me will transport _Shates _here –" with the name, Takane grabbed the man by the good shoulder, tightening the handcuffs around his wrists quickly, "-and move him into the interrogation room. The Initiative boys will take the contents of this truck here and put it into custody."

Wilder nodded, shouting orders to the Initiative police to get cracking on the truckload. Takane smirked and radioed for the squad cars to move in.

* * *

Shates sat in the interrogation room sullenly, staring blackly at the cop lounging across the table from him, boots crossed on the desk, chewing loudly on a skewer of meat she'd picked up on the way back from Shibuya. From behind the one-way mirror, Meg watched Takane take another mouthful of meat, washing it down with a huge gulp of soda.

_Interesting theatrics. Hell, even I'm getting eager to move onto the damn questioning already. _Meg wasn't sure why Takane had asked her to stay back a little longer. Normally, Meg would help apprehend the drug-runners with the Initiative and leave as soon as the fighting was over and her statement recorded.

Takane belched loudly from behind her hand, tossing the skewer into the small wastebasket in the corner of the room. Only Meg noticed how the unerring precision of the seemingly negligent toss.

The policewoman leaned forwards, swinging her boots down from the table. "So, Tommy. I'll make this nice and easy for ya. State your name for the Initiative's records."

"Tom Shates, though you already know that." The man's voice was cool, if tinged with a bit of pain. Meg made a face – the bullet had barely grazed his shoulder, and it had been cleaned and bandaged just now. Wuss.

"Yeah, yeah. Just started with somethin' easy. So, your little friends we arrested tell us you're the leader of the Red Dragons. That right?"

"I founded it, yeah. We were just hanging out in the warehouse, man. Seriously, what the hell did we do to deserve a fucking Initiative raid?"

Takane raised an eyebrow, digging around in her coat pockets for something. "I wonder. And keep the potty mouth off of my records, thanks." She pulled out a small, clear packet of white powder. "We found a shit-tonne of this stuff in the back of that truck in your little cubby house. Know what this is?"

Shates stared stonily at the wall.

"I believe you dubbed this stuff 'Mirage'." Takane tossed the packet to the wooden table, resting her chin on her fist. "You knew what it could do. Three of your Red Dragon buddies were admitted to the emergency ward, a few weeks back. Symptoms were vivid, persistent hallucinations.

"One of those men still hasn't really recovered – still seeing spiders crawling down his walls and the buzz of cockroaches he's sure have nested in his ears. And that's not even getting into the withdrawal that killed the other two. I almost think they were the lucky ones."

His eyes cut towards her, his face pale. Meg had to wonder if they'd bothered to check up on their members, after they'd dumped them off at the hospital.

"So how 'bout you tell me where you got this nasty stuff from? If you're nice and helpful, I may cut you a deal, kiddo." Takane studied her fingernails, smirking at the teen.

Shates' stony stare lifted from the wall, and he clenched his teeth. He was breaking under Takane's good-cop routine, even without a 'bad-cop' partner to work with. Maybe, his shoulder reminded him of what the alternative was. Damnit, though. Shates was just a kid.

The Red Dragon leader inclined his head sharply in a nod.

"Fine," he told the cop across from him, his teeth clenched. "My group… we used to hang out somewhere quieter than Shibuya. The abandoned subway."

Takane nodded, urging him to keep going.

"We were wandering the lines there, decorating the old walls with our slogans, just foolin'. Then Keito comes running up, says he found something big. We follow him, and suddenly we see this building, right in the middle of the abandoned subway, where an old station used to be."

Meg's breath caught in her throat.

_No freaking way._

"We sneak in, and find a truck being unloaded in there. It's Mirage – we pinch the truck. For the laughs. Wasn't 'til later that we decided to sell the stuff in the back." Shates sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's all I know."

There were a few moments of silence as Takane digested Shates' story. She slowly reached into her coat's pockets, drawing out a tattered, dog-eared fold of paper. As she smoothed it out, it became clear that it was an old subway map.

"Could you mark on the map, where you think that building was?" Takane passed Shates a black marker. "Just a cross would do it."

Shates wordlessly examined the old map, then drew a bold 'x' on it. Meg couldn't work out the exact location – but it was damn close to where the old lab had been.

"Now Shates, is there anything else you can tell us?" Takane drawled, taking the map back from him and tucking it into her coat's pockets again.

Shates hesitated a moment, frowning.

"Keito stayed behind a while, to make sure none of the guards were following us back to camp. He said… he said…" Shates paused, his face contorted in thought. "The guards. They said, 'Damn it! Now we gotta move to a new one… is it going to be A-12 this time?'." The Red Dragon shrugged. "I dunno, I wasn't the one who heard it. But Keito was damn sure they said 'A-12', since we were canvassing the place, looking for where their new base was. If Mirage became a hit, we wanted to know where to get more."

Meg felt numb as she watched Takane push her way out of the interrogation room.

"So, Meg. I take it you heard all that?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. A-12. A clue that Amy could work on.

Takane nodded in satisfaction. "This drug, it had RAPT's fingers all over it. I'm not surprised – I thought it'd be some idiocy like this, so I asked you to stay. You think you can use this info? The lab was not enough, but maybe that big-mouthed guard gave us the shove we needed to get this thing really rolling."

Still breathless, Meg grinned at Takane. "A-12. I'm sure Amy can do something with that."

* * *

The council room was shrouded in darkness as Sei entered, the heavy smell of perfume and cigar smoke hanging in the air like a haze. She sketched a stiff bow to Bai-Lan's funding council, ignoring the dull ache in her body and the beginnings of a stress-born migraine in her temples. No matter how she loathed these people, she had to be polite.

"Sei Laoban, current don of Bai-Lan. Be at ease," a voice to her right told her, and Sei's eyes slid over to the source. She could not make out the speaker through the shadows, she realized with annoyance.

Sei forced herself to relax, to breathe. It was just the council – no longer were they in charge of the ins and outs of Bai-Lan's missions and alliances. She and she alone controlled that – her grandfather that made sure of that. Sei had not inherited a puppet's position in Bai-Lan after he'd passed away, and she had to thank him for that.

The council still held power, though – with the right financial pressures, Sei knew they could strangle her into submission. If they dared. She tried not to clench her teeth in anger. They knew they had the power, but they hadn't had the stomach to use it, yet.

Her stomach clenched as she wondered why they'd summon her before a whole council, if that was the case.

_Calm. _

"What business does the council have with me?" Sei questioned, her tone as level as she could make it, her face a frozen mask of apathy.

_Don't show emotion. Don't show your nerves. Be the don of Bai-Lan, as grandfather taught you so long ago. _

"The recent mission for Ormicon… troubles us," a voice said to Sei's left, a cold voice. "You lost many Bai-Lan agents in that operation, all destroyed by a madman. Then it turns out that Kruegar is a goldmine of technology! Instead of recouping Bai-Lan's substantial losses from the Ormicon operation, you send that loose cannon Mitarai out and-"

"For the record, councillor, I did not _send _Meg out-"

"-and lost him! God only knows _where _the cyborg man is now, other than beyond our reach!"

"This is an unacceptable loss, Sei." A voice from the centre of the shadows, now. "Not only do you persist in chasing non-existent shadows, wasting the organization's funds, you _refuse _to allow us to recoup our losses when we can!"

_Calm. Stay calm. They're getting under your skin, Sei._

"Councillor, driving out the last of RAPT's insidious roots is not an unworthy mission," Sei pointed out. "In doing so, we have won the favour of the Initiative and gained operations we normally would not have had access to. Not only that, but upon close investigation, Ormicon and RAPT-"

"You are dismissed, Sei. We will reconvene on this matter next week. Know that we are exceedingly disappointed in you – you were such a promising leader. To see it all go to waste on conspiracy theories and paranoia… well," The central voice told her heavily. "We'll have to consider our actions, regarding this pressing matter."

Sei bowed stiffly again, forcing her emotions to still, to stop reflecting on her face. She left the council room, straight-backed and proud, but her mind working furiously.

_So the council finally decided to grow some balls after all, _a cold voice in Sei's head told her. _Show them that Sei Laoban isn't going to be whipped like that._

Sei nodded to herself as she reboarded the small aircraft that had taken her to the council chambers, entering in the coordinates to the _Elizabeth _quickly.

No, she wouldn't be taking this lying down. Not with everything at stake – her dreams, her plans. Still, the council's blatant dismissal of RAPT and Ormicon's connections to the outlaw organization was… worrying. Given the council's alliance with RAPT five years ago…

Sei's stomach was soured. This was not good. Not good at all.


	9. A Link Reforged

The room was dark, lit only by the pale glow of the security terminal at which a black-haired woman sat. She rubbed her eyes, wishing the straining sensation in them would leave her alone. It was late at night – too late for those she worked for to be doing tests. Or, at least, so it had been before their unceremonious move from the B-23 base in the old subway.

She rubbed her eyes again, turning them reluctantly back to the terminal screen. She had an important task to do, she reminded herself forcefully. Just because even she was starting to feel the effects of her obsessive search didn't mean she needed a break.

It was a weapons test, she noted as she watched the live feedings from the camera, her chin rested in the palm of her hand. Or, rather, it was a physical challenge for the newest of their 'enhanced' specimens. Oh, the scientists had such high hopes for this one, she remembered, her lip curling slightly.

She could hear a woman's serpentine voice barking orders to the guards in the training room, allowing them to release whatever monstrosity they'd cooked up this time, into their 'Gauntlet'. Whether or not it was a success was wholly dependant on whether it survived five hours of continual fighting and gunfire.

Needless to say, there had been few enough success stories since Maria had introduced the Gauntlet to the program.

The woman winced as she shifted in her seat, the destroyed joint of her left knee aching abominably. She'd been sitting for hours, much longer than she normally allowed herself to remain stationary. Of course, she never usually accepted a double shift, but there had been wind of a new set of specimens.

Her mouth tightened as she rubbed the swollen joint. She'd waited too long for healing, after that incident. In her haste to start on her goals, she'd neglected her body, and now the joint would never come good without an expensive cybernetic implant.

She hardly had access to funds like that. So her knee had never been the same, her old career in ruins.

The remains of the latest subject were being cleared away, she realized, as her headset crackled.

"_Hey! Eye in the sky! Is it safe to dump the body?" _One of the guards asked her, and with a jolt, she quickly checked the other feeds. There was not a soul in sight, she noted. This late in the night, they'd only encounter people with even shadier reasons for being deep under the docks.

"The road is clear," she told the guards dismissively, her eyes drawn back to that one feed of the weapons room, back to Maria, hoping fervently that tonight would be the night. Maybe tonight she would discover what she needed to bring RAPT and their sick ideals down – this time for good.

She hoped that Meg would get her act together and track RAPT down already. God only knew she'd given her enough hints by now… As another of the subjects was marched into the Gauntlet room, she frowned. Another subject, another death. The Project had certainly picked up, she noted grimly. So near to completion, it would only be a matter of time before RAPT would no longer need their most disagreeable test subject, nor the rejects they spawned from her genetic code.

When that happened, when Jo was useless, they'd feed her to that monstrosity pacing about the Gauntlet room.

Oh yes, that Maria took quite a joy in the extermination of the new subjects. Such loathing for their genetic donor was incredible – she supposed she could relate a small amount, a very long time ago.

Her eyes narrowed. With every day that passed, it became more and more apparent. That cruel RAPT creature was losing it. She got more volatile and more violent, lashing out at subjects and scientists alike at every failure. The sprawling, purple tattoo over her cheek and arm activated and deactivated sporadically, warping in and out of existence on her skin, seeming unable to manifest properly.

The deterioration was clear – was that why experimentation had leapt up a few notches?

"_Beth! Earth to Beth! You hearing me? Are we right to dump this one, too?"_

'Beth' glanced at the feeds, feeling her task weigh even more heavily on her as the night dragged onwards.

"Affirmative."

* * *

Sei collapsed to her study's chair, allowing herself one moment of weakness where she let her forehead touch the cold metallic desktop and a fumbled for a cigarette. Her search stopped as she remembered that Amy had done away with the packet a few weeks back, citing Sei's constant migraines as the reason to stop with the 'cancer sticks'. Sei didn't know the truth of the matter, but it seemed that her headaches had only gotten worse. Of course, things had certainly gone downhill rather quickly, since then.

She skated from one problem to another, no chance to breathe, no second chances. A few weeks ago, paperwork and Meg's simmering rage had been the most of her worries. Now, she faced the council's leash, just as she had five years ago, and the shadow of RAPT was taunting her from the edge of her vision. She clenched her left hand, feeling the burn scars stretch and ache.

Things had gone downhill quickly, indeed.

Sei lifted her head, reaching into her desk's drawers and pulling the metal flask from the bottom drawer. She needed to think.

She unscrewed the cap, taking a quick swallow of the liquid and nearly gagged. Leo truly had an awful taste in alcohol, Sei thought dryly as she wiped her mouth. When he'd gifted the flask to her on his last maintenance check on Jango R, he'd said it might help soothe a few ragged nerves. She took a shaky breath, forcing her mind back to the task at hand.

The council's blatant dismissal of her concerns over RAPT was troubling. Up until a few weeks ago, she'd had quiet support from the funding council. While they certainly did not agree with all of her decisions, she'd been confident that in the matter of RAPT, Bai-Lan's council would be behind her. Opposition to RAPT was the best course of action, or so it had been since the assault.

_Which means that something's changed, _Sei mused as she took another sip of the flask's contents. Perhaps Leo had been right. She was calming, thinking more rationally. _But to go from opposing RAPT's remains to openly declaring their existence as paranoia and conspiracy theories is very strange. _

Things had started going wrong following the Ormicon job. An incredible loss for Bai-Lan, both in manpower and business relationships. At the current point in time, her agents were still unable to perform at full capacity, and if the council had their way, that might remain so for a long time.

But had it really started with the Ormicon job? Or was it merely a coincidence? Those video stills had been given to Meg, the night before the Ormicon job. Was _that _the true fire, and the Kruegar incident just the smoke screen?

Tapping her fingers on the metal flask absently, she stared at the tabletop. It all came back to that job. The loss of her men, the damage to the Elizabeth. All because of Ormicon. Sei rested her chin in her hand, thinking. Then maybe there was a connection, between Ormicon and the remnants of RAPT. She just had to find it and prove it to the world.

_Easier said than done._

What was Bai-Lan's closest link to Ormicon? President Morholt was hardly the kind of man to hold Bai-Lan in favour, not after how close Kruegar had come to eliminating him. Sei recalled how grudgingly Ormicon had paid off Bai-Lan. No, Morholt would not be suitable. Shin and Zuru were also out of the question. A bizarre cross between bodyguards and CEOs of Ormicon, she hadn't exactly hit it off with the pair during their limited interactions.

There was someone else, though. A woman with light blue hair – Sei could vaguely recall her. The President's secretary, who was a girl who attended the Saint Luciana Academy during Bai-Lan's operation there. From what Sei could remember, Meg had hit it off with the girl initially.

Though the friendship had cooled, partially due to Meg's own flaky behaviour and an immense amount of confusion over her feelings for Jo, it was still possible to make something of this.

_Yoko Ketsu, _Sei thought firmly, as she took another mouthful of Leo's nasty brew. _That was her name._

* * *

Meg vaulted up the boarding ramps of the _Elizabeth, _skidding on the metal grating in her haste as she dodged a departing jeep of Bai-Lan agents. Her bike was parked haphazardly next to the organization's airship – she hoped that it would be safe there. She just needed to get to Sei, as fast as possible.

As she pounded down the narrow airship corridors, past the repaired hold, the first place she checked was Sei's office. The study was empty, save for a flask that stood open over the Bai-Lan insignia etched into the desk's surface. Meg mumbled a curse – where else was Sei found during the night? Racking her brain, Meg raced to the command room. Sei was a hopeless workaholic, Meg thought as she panted, pushing herself faster. Of course she'd be overseeing some kind of obscure operation.

Meg swore again, her eyes taking in only the familiar robots bent at the control panels. No Amy, and certainly no Sei. Just Nana and Hachi, taking care of the night's tasks. Slightly winded, Meg jogged over to Hachi, grabbing the cat-woman's shoulder and shaking it.

"Hachi! Can you do a quick scan of _Elizabeth? _I need to find Sei," she told Hachi, still breathless. The cat-woman inclined her head, her eyes glowing as she took stock of the airship's occupants and their locations. The cat nodded, the light fading from her eyes as she turned back to Meg.

"Don Laoban seems to be in the first aid room," she said, her voice flat, but polite.

"Thanks," Meg muttered as she jogged back out of the command room. As hot and sweaty as she was, she put on an extra burst of speed and was breathing hard by the time she made it across the airship.

Doctor Irukon would have left for his home at that hour, Meg thought as she entered in the code to unlock the first aid room's door. Unless an injury to an agent had held him up, of course. That was always a possibility. She shoved the doors aside roughly, storming into the room, her eyes searching for her Sei.

Her aforementioned boss was leaned against the cupboards heavily, rifling loudly through them as she searched for something. She seemed to sway on her feet as she hiccoughed, the sound seeming strange coming from the normally refined Bai-Lan leader. Meg's eyes narrowed.

"Sei, you're _sloshed!_" she said in dismay. Just when she was hoping for a bit of advice and help, Sei had to go and – well – do something very _un_-Sei.

Sei raised her head, a wan smile on her lips as she leaned against cupboards more heavily.

"You don't suppose the doctor has something for that, do you?" Meg's slightly drunken boss asked slowly, then shook her head. That turned out to be not such a great idea as Sei stumbled. Meg moved quickly to catch her, rolling her eyes as Sei pushed her away.

"Why'd you have to go and do this, for?" the mercenary complained, as Sei staggered over to the bed and sat down on it gratefully.

"I kind of _need _to be inebriated, just to ask you to do what I need to you do," the Bai-Lan leader said, resting her head in her hands. "I just didn't expect Leo's flask to be as potent as it was. I feel like hell."

"You look like it," Meg snorted. "Anyhow, I was helping out the Initiative and Takane tonight. They had this drug bust going down, so I gave them a hand apprehending the guys. But it turns out that the stuff the Red Dragons were selling were _RAPT-developed _drugs! They stole them from the subway base, not a week before we were there! One of them heard the new location they were moving to, A-12 or something like that – but Sei! Do you know what this _means_?"

"That you should probably be telling Amy this, rather than your drunken boss," Sei said, through her hands. "I have some news you aren't going to like hearing, Meg."

Meg's stomach lurched – she ignored it. She was just being ridiculous, there was no way Sei would call off the RAPT search now, not when they were so _close_-

"Today, I met with the financial council. That meeting has made me more certain than ever before that there is a link between RAPT and Ormicon."

Relief flooded Meg, and she let out the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. So Sei wasn't going to call it off. It was all good, then. There was no need for panic just yet. Though Sei _did _call it 'something she wasn't going to like hearing'…

"Ormicon might be a partner, in whatever has become of RAPT's remains. I want you to take a look around, do a bit of recon work." Sei lifted her dark eyes to meet Meg's, her eyes unflinching. "I need you to resume your friendship with Yoko Ketsu."

Meg's heart stopped.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked Sei, her voice sounding sick in her own ears. "After she knows I've avoided her for five years? In the middle of the RAPT investigations?" Her voice squeaked towards the end. Sei had no idea of what she was asking, none at all-

"It is precisely _because _of the RAPT investigations that we need you to do this." Sei buried her head in her hands again. "I need you to find that connection, Meg, and Yoko's our only link to Ormicon."

"Damnit, Sei! Do I _seriously_ have a choice?" Meg cursed, storming out of the first aid room. "Whatever. I'll just go barge back into the life of someone who I left behind five years ago. _Great_."

* * *

Amy was flopped out on her bed, flat on her stomach, her ears filled with the main theme of _Dragon Bomber Brothers VII_ set at a deafening volume as she flipped the pages of her manga. She enjoyed the odd manga, yes. Might have been the giant robots, the hot chicks or the smoking guys. Certainly, it wasn't for some guy's crackpot ideas of 'wtf science'. Sometimes she just wanted to smack the authors – didn't anybody ever tell them that physics and biology didn't _actually _work that way?

She heaved a giant sigh as she turned the next page, casting her eye quickly over to her personal computer. Sprawled in a corner of her room that took up nearly half the space, all leads and backup drives and connections to every inch of the _Elizabeth_, Amy's computer was her pride and joy. Hell, that thing could take out the entire RAPT security system, had she had it back in the day.

Maybe Sei wouldn't have had to launch such a suicidal assault on the RAPT headquarters.

Still, the torrent she was downloading was stalling. The internet needed more seeders, less leechers. Amy rolled her eyes – maybe there'd be less demand for the program tomorrow. She flicked another page of her manga, snorting loudly at the cheesy dialogue.

_El. Oh. El. Still, she's hot, so it's not so bad. _

The door to Amy's room slid open, admitting an annoyed-looking Meg. The hacker raised an eyebrow at her teammate's stormy expression.

_Geez, after all I did for you, you still managed to screw it up? Gawd, you are so hopeless._

"Things go badly with Takane?" Amy questioned, turning back to her manga and sipping from the can of soda she'd cracked open. While a Jo-wannabe, Meg certainly didn't have Jo's stoic nature down pat just yet. Give her the right pressure, and she'd spill her guts like an underworld snitch.

_I should stop reading this cheesy manga. The bad dialogue is getting to me, _Amy decided vaguely. She turned the next page.

"How'd you know about that?" Meg asked warily, leaning against the doorframe. There was the smell of cigarettes and gunpowder on her, plus the usual Tokyo scent. Amy forced her mind back to the present. Oh hormones, when you hit, you hit hard.

Amy feigned a casual shrug. "I called Takane, told her to get your moody ass out of my airship. You glad I did?"

"Huh." Meg had an odd look on her face. Amy couldn't be sure what it was, but it seemed grateful. "I'm just surprised, that you'd do something like that for me."

"Yeah, well, a happy and violent Meg is better than a sulking and moody Meg. You get what I'm saying? When you angst, you put the whole airship on a downer." She tried not to let Meg's appreciation get to her head. "So why do you look like a storm cloud that just rolled into my room?"

Meg blew out sharply, giving Amy a rueful grin. "When did you start being my psychologist? Sei just gave me a mission I didn't much like."

"Which is?" Amy prodded.

"I have to resume my friendship with Yoko Ketsu, the Ormicon president's secretary." Meg's eyes narrowed as she spoke, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't exactly have fond memories of Yoko, or the Saint Luciana Academy."

"So Takane didn't open her big yap this time? Well, that's a nice change. Thought it'd be the redneck cop for sure." Amy tapped her cheek as she turned the page of her manga again. "Well, Sei's pretty caught up at the moment. You might not like this mission, but she probably didn't like giving it."

"She was pissed," Meg admitted, looking to the side. "I've never seen her that drunk."

_Bingo. She's still on that RAPT-Ormicon connection theory, and the council's response was less than she hoped for. Sei, why do you invest so much of yourself in your pet theories?_

"I guess the meeting with the council went worse than she expected. Especially if she's doing something drastic like making you find your way into Yoko's panti-"

"Oh, shut the hell up, Amy. I came here to give you some RAPT info I uncovered tonight. A-12, as in a location. Can you do something with that?"

"So long as you stop denying that Yoko was totally into you. Still is."

If Amy's doors had been able to slam shut, the hacker was positive Meg would have slammed them on her way out. She cackled evilly, taking another sip of soda as she watched her torrent edge towards one hundred percent.

* * *

The morning dawned, bright and sunny and optimistic. Meg loathed the very sight of it, staring dully out the window of the smaller hover vehicle Sei had piled her, and a few other select agents, into. Cramped, hot and irritable from lack of sleep, Meg studied the chambers of her guns, her mind working sluggishly but angrily. The muzzles of her guns glinted in the rising sun, and she sighed heavily.

It was too much to hope that putting a bullet through her head would save her, now. As determined as Sei was about this, she'd drag Meg back from hell just for this stupid recon mission. Meg's mouth tightened as she looked out the window.

There were three other agents forced into the cramped, two-person hovercraft. Natsuki and Rei, Meg had worked with before. It had been a rather gruelling showdown with one of the Yakuza bigwigs – Rei had lost an arm, Nat an eye. The carnage that they wrought, however, was enough to convince the other gang members that retaliation would be useless. Then again, Meg didn't know how many assassination attempts Bai-Lan forces might have intercepted. She supposed she didn't _want _to know.

The last agent was a major cause of Meg's current ire. He was a pale-haired kid, wearing full riot-gear and a pair of goggles. He sat in the passenger seat, his helmet dangling from his fingers as he watched the buildings whiz by. Sure, Meg wanted a seat, instead of being cramped up the back as she was, but that was hardly the problem.

At the start of the mission, he'd made his name known as Hirao, cutting Natsuki and Rei smooth bows in deference. Meg, he ignored. At first, it had confused her. Why the hell was she saddled with a rude brat? It was only when she started listening to his voice that she'd picked where she knew him.

_He's that stuck up little brat, from when I started to chase Kruegar! _she realized, her annoyance rising. So he was holding a grudge for a shot he missed, she noted. Screw him, then. There were more important things to be concerned with.

Of course, that hadn't stopped her from stewing in rage as the trip wore on, though.

The mission itself was as straightforward, as Sei had told Meg the night before. A prestigious English family had been hit by an intense burglary in Tokyo's higher class areas; the Longinues had hired Bai-Lan to track down the culprits and return their missing heirlooms. Bai-Lan could do what they chose with the perpetrators – Meg's mouth twisted into a slightly feral grin. Just how she liked it. No law, no leash.

Just the thrill of the mission and the feeling of being _alive. _Amy and her robotic companions had tracked down the thieves to a small flat on the outskirts of Tokyo, and earlier that morning, Bai-Lan's eyes and ears had confirmed the targets. Meg jumped as the comm. link on her wrist beeped loudly. She stifled a groan as she guessed who was on the other line. Of all the-

"Mitarai here. What's up?"

"_How are things going?" _Sei asked. _"By my calculations, you should be ten or so minutes off destination."_

Meg snorted. She really wasn't in the mood for Sei's small talk – she just wished her boss would get to the point already. "Things are fine, I guess. What do you want?"

"_So blunt, Meg. A little apprehensive, are we?" _Amy's lighter voice teased. Meg rolled her eyes, and then shot a quick glance at Nat and Rei. They appeared to be hiding grins, damn them! Hirao just looked bored. Meg gritted her teeth and ground out,

"Can it, Amy."

"_I had Amy hack Yoko's schedule from her handheld planner. While we couldn't find anything regarding your __mission__, we did ascertain that Yoko is free during a lunch hour, commencing at one o'clock. If you wrap this up quickly, that should leave you plenty of time. I'll have Amy upload her private number to your link."_

Meg blinked as she realized that harsh, grinding noise was coming from her clenched teeth.

"Whoopdedoo. What the hell do you want me to say?" she growled. Oh, those two were _definitely_ grinning. Damn Sei. Why couldn't she have waited? No, she wanted to embarrass the hell out of her best gunner. Who said Sei didn't have a sense of humour? Too bad it sucked ass, Meg added in her mind, a tad viciously.

"_Always nice to see you're in a good mood," _Sei told her. _"I'll leave you to your pre-mission prep, then. Recover the goods and contact me immediately. I'll be sending another crew to return the heirlooms to the Longinues."_

"Whatever," Meg said and disconnected the link. Damn Sei and her damn missions and her damn cool exterior.

She groaned as her comm. link received Amy's uploaded data. Yoko's number. Sei was really pushing this mission, she noted with ever-growing despair. How the hell could she avoid it? She didn't want to see Yoko. She wanted to stay the hell away from the President's secretary and the memories she stirred. Meg's mind began working furiously for a way out. Maybe she could drag this mission out…?

* * *

In spite of enacting every delay tactic Meg could _think _of, the mission was wrapped up well before lunch. She triple-checked her weaponry, argued semantics over their orders, delayed as long as possible as they waited for the raid to begin. She insisted on the complete apprehension of every one of the twenty goons they found, knocking them out cold for good measure. She checked every square foot of the warehouse for hidden rooms and trapdoors, and catalogued the recovered goods with a focus her normal jobs would never have seen.

"Anyone would think you're trying to better yourself," Rei told her with a snigger as they took stock of the Longinue family heirlooms. "Should we be expecting such… attentive work in the future?"

"Wouldn't that be a pain?" Natsuki laughed, heaving a large crate to the concrete floor and taking a crowbar to the top of it. "Interesting mission, though. I'd kill to have an easy mission like that. Easy."

_Sure, if you don't recall being attacked, bound and drugged in a bizarre ritual by that girl and her classmates, _Meg snapped silently. _Everything stripped away. My pride, my dignity, my secrets. _

Instead of voicing that dark thought, Meg grimaced and said,

"Easy's not exactly my style."

"RAPT mutants and cyborgs are, right?" Rei grunted as she heaved another crate to the ground. Meg noted that Hirao scowled at that comment. The sullen boy was guarding the crooks they'd apprehended, drawing the short straw in the jobs Nat had handed out. There wasn't that much sport in watching unconscious thugs, and from Hirao's bored expression, he thought so too.

"Right…" Meg muttered. She still wasn't sure how she'd landed the dubious honour of having killed Kruegar that first time, but she wasn't complaining. She could have been sure that it had been the snipers that had taken him out. Either way, her showdown with Kruegar on the outskirts of Tokyo was one of Bai-Lan's worst kept secrets right now. Meg blamed Amy for that – the girl had no idea of 'top secret' meant.

_She'd probably blogged about it even before Sei's orders, _Meg thought with an internal sigh as she checked the time on her comm. link. _Barely even twenty to eleven… I am so screwed. _

The next group of agents would be arriving with the trucks at any moment, she realized with despair as she took careful note of the items in the crate Rei had just opened. A few candleholders, vases – those Longinues had some real funny ideas about what counted as 'priceless family heirlooms', Meg noted with disgust as she closed the crate up again.

Still, so long as Bai-Lan was getting paid. Like Sei said, they needed whatever jobs they could get so they could get back on their feet, and if the Longinues thought giant pairs of wooden earrings, a pen on a chain, a gold-painted wooden necklace and a painting of some islands was worth hiring Bai-Lan, more power to them. No matter if it was almost an ultimate insult to an organization that took care of crooks and drug runners on a daily basis.

"Yo Mitarai! Hey – watch how you store that stuff!" A voice called out from the entrance of the warehouse, the sound of booted feet pounding over cracked cement. Meg whirled around, touching her fingers to the butt of one of her guns in spite of herself. But you could never be too careful, not on the job.

It took her a moment to recognize the man sprinting towards her – she didn't really work with Chion Arakito often. Goods recovery wasn't really one of Meg's functions in Bai-Lan, and this man was a self-proclaimed expert at it. He was a near-civilian storage monkey, she was a mercenary that fought 'RAPT mutants and cyborgs', as Rei put it. Their paths didn't exactly cross all that often.

He was panting by the time he made it across the warehouse floor, and he paused for a moment to catch his breath and to shake his long black hair from his face. He was a skinny, unfit man, Meg noted with distaste. Someone who gave orders, rather than took them. She had to wonder how he made it so far in Bai-Lan…

"Is there something wrong, Arakito?" she asked, forcing herself to sound as pleasant as she could.

Arakito gave her a level look. "Aside from how you and your fellow agents are contaminating the goods, we'd _really _rather keep this stuff sealed until we get to the Longinues manor. We'll catalogue everything when we reach it."

Meg felt a stirring of irritation as she leaned against the open crate. Rei and Natsuki had stopped what they were doing, one of them tapping their crowbar on the concrete ground – Meg didn't know who.

"Just trying to help," she told him tightly, watching as more of the relief agents began to move into the warehouse. "We weren't given any orders to _not _do this."

Arakito sighed, brushing his hair back from his face again. "Your help is _very _much appreciated, but we'll take it from here. You guys are free to head back to the _Elizabeth _for new jobs."

Meg nodded shortly, leaving her crowbar atop the box. She wouldn't be returning to the _Elizabeth _for the extra missions_, _for reasons Sei kept making crystal clear. She'd be biking over to the district Ormicon's offices resided in… There was a twist of panic in her stomach as she considered the mission before her, and she had to take a few deep breaths before it would pass.

_Easy, Meg. You can do this. You've faced down cyborgs, cybots, drug runners, murders and rapists. You can make one measly phone call, right? Yoko will probably say no, anyhow. She wasn't exactly dying for my company the last time I saw her. _

Breathing out slowly, Meg made her way out of the warehouse, sidling past the unconscious and prone forms of her targets and into the cool air. Arakito had brought a large truck with him to help with the delivery, Meg noted as her fingers fished about her pockets for her pack of cigarettes.

_Damn. Empty. _She swallowed as the feeling of unease tripled in her stomach. For the fiftieth time that day, she glanced at the information flashing on her comm. link. There it was, all panic-inducing numbers and distasteful memories of a mission she'd rather forget. Sei had been true to her word, though – Amy had almost immediately uploaded Yoko's number, after Sei had ceased contact. Too bad the promptness was for something so… _ugh_.

She stretched her arms out, rolling her shoulders, stretching out her legs. It would do no good if she busted a ligament-

_Oh god, who am I kidding? Am I really so chicken that I'm putting the mission off by stretches? _She just had to bite the bullet. She was employed by Bai-Lan, she had to take whatever mission Sei assigned her. With rising apprehension, she entered Yoko's data into her comm. link, her fingers feeling numbed all of a sudden. The dial-tone sounded oddly threatening as she waited, her breath baited.

She swallowed thickly, realizing her mouth was very dry – she could really do with that cigarette right now. Meg fought the urge to cringe.

"_Yoko Ketsu here, how may I assist you today?" _

Meg opened her mouth, willing herself to speak. She let out a croak – what the hell could she say? Maybe she should have planned this out more in her head beforehand.

There was a moment of silence, only the sound of Yoko's breath and the rustle of papers. She must be sorting them out while she answered the phone, Meg realized vaguely, her tongue still frozen to the roof of her mouth.

_All for Bai-Lan, all for Bai-Lan, damn Sei, all for Bai-Lan…_

"_Hello? Is anybody there? Listen, I'm going to hang up if-"_

"Hey! Yoko! It's me!" Meg blurted, running a shaking hand through her bangs roughly. She internally cursed then – how the hell would Yoko know who 'me' was? It wasn't like she really gave Yoko any hints or anything, neither was Yoko expecting her to call, they weren't exactly the greatest of friends at the moment and-

"_Oh!" _Yoko's light voice sounded surprised now. _"Meg! How are you? Are you back on your feet after all those injuries?"_

_Huh, maybe she does know my voice. Whaddaya know?_

To Yoko, Meg stammered instead, "Uh, y-yeah. You know how it goes. Cyborgs and cybots and explosions and everything. Par the course, you know?" For good measure, she tacked on an unsteady laugh.

"_I see. Well, I am glad to hear it."_

"Uh, thanks." Meg scrubbed her hand through her bangs again. "Hey, listen-"

"_President Morholt has fully recovered. I trust you can convey that to Don Laoban? In spite of the issue with Kruegar's remains, President Morholt and I continue to hope to conduct further business with Bai-Lan. Your organization has made… quite the impression on my superiors. _"

God, she was so formal it was almost painful to listen to. Just like back at the Saint Luciana Academy… Meg sighed. "Yeah, sure. But Yoko, I had something I wanted to ask you."

"_I see." _There was that surprised tone, again. _"By all means, Meg. Please."_

_Okay. Here it goes. I hope you're damn happy, Sei. _

"Listen, I had some free time on my hands between jobs, and I remembered that I have a few lunches to make up with you." Surprisingly, it was getting easier to talk to Yoko now. Perhaps she was just getting into the lie, or the mercenary mindset. Either way, the knot in her stomach started to ease. "Maybe, if you want, we can catch up during your lunch hour or something. You know. Hang out."

There was a moment of silence as Yoko digested this request. Meg waited, her breath baited. Was she going to explode in a self-righteous fury, and demand what Meg was up to? She hadn't exactly been subtle about this.

"_Of course, Meg. I would love to join you."_

Meg's breath caught, and she faked a grin, even if Yoko couldn't see it. "Great! I'll pick you up over at the Ormicon building, right?"

"_Very well, Meg. I'll be out the front at one o'clock."_

She fought down the urge to start gibbering in panic, forcing herself to declare, "Awesome! Uh, well, I'll see you then."

"_At one o'clock, then." _There was a hint of a smile in Yoko's voice – Meg's stomach twisted painfully. God, the lie stung. It was really no easier to lie to her now, than it had been five years ago. The fact that Yoko was being so nice about it, being so genuinely happy…

Meg clicked her comm. link off, feeling more miserable than she had been before. She stared up at the sky as she heard Hirao, Natsuki and Rei move past her and towards the small hover vehicle, reminded so completely of that visit to the hospital. She remembered telling Jo about her inner turmoil, and Jo had responded in her usual fashion.

_The weak are consumed by the demons inside themselves, _Jo's voice whispered in her ear, so soft Meg could barely hear it.

"Yeah," Meg muttered to the cloudless and harsh blue sky, as she moved off to board the hover vehicle. "We are."

* * *

As promised, Yoko was waiting outside of the Ormicon offices, sitting on a bench in the shade of the bus stop. On a second look, Meg noted sourly as she guided her bike over to Yoko, the Ormicon building looked even uglier than before. Maybe it was just her mindset. An ugly mind saw only ugliness.

Yoko looked up as Meg neared, peering up from her personal organizer through wire-rimmed glasses. She was wearing a grey suit and skirt today, her blue hair caught back in a large clip at the back of her head. Meg ran an eye up and down her slender form as Yoko climbed gracefully to her feet. It wasn't like Yoko wasn't attractive, or anything. Huh. Maybe her mind wasn't in such an ugly mood, after all.

What had Amy said, last night?

_Yoko's into me, huh? _Meg lowered her goggles down around her neck. The grin she forced onto her face was almost genuine.

"Hey," she said, leaning on the handlebars of her bike and offering Yoko the only helmet she carried. Yoko looked her up and down, eyeing the bike warily. Was she afraid of biking it? Or didn't she trust Meg's driving skills? Honestly, if Amy didn't stop blogging about how she was such a 'terrible driver', she'd bloody throttle her-

"Hey," Yoko smiled then, taking the helmet in both her hands. "I had no idea you used one of these."

Meg couldn't help but puff up a little inside. "The Kanbaku's old leader taught me, not long after the RAPT HQ fell," she told the other woman as she removed her hair clip and strapped the helmet on. "I wish I had a less insane instructor."

Yoko gave another one of those half smiles, the ones that Meg couldn't figure out if they were real or not.

"You have some… interesting friends, Meg," she said over the growling motor of the bike as she climbed on. Her arms slid around Meg's waist as the mercenary kicked the motorcycle off.

Meg grinned back at her. "You don't even know the half of it."

"So where are we going?" Yoko questioned as Meg pulled out onto the road properly, her arms tightening around Meg's waist as the engine growled. The mercenary smirked as she decided on where she'd be taking Yoko. Somewhere they could get good food, fast.

"Just a place I know! Hold onto your hat!" Meg shouted over the roar of the bike as she sped off towards the city. Even if she was using Yoko to spy on Ormicon, she felt like she owed it the girl – and the demons in her head – to put the past behind her and at least make this mission enjoyable.


	10. Distorted Connections

It wasn't a fancy place that Meg chose, but something near to the Ormicon offices that served reasonable food, fast. As she removed the keys from her bike's ignition, she gave Yoko a quick grin, feeling a small measure of relief as the other woman removed her arms from around Meg's waist. Her back felt slightly warm from Yoko's heat, and she watched Yoko remove the helmet. Her blue hair was slightly mussed by the wind, but Yoko's slender fingers combed it back into the clip as it was replaced.

Meg averted her eyes, looking at the small stall.

The burger joint was smaller than she remembered, Meg noted. Then again, it had been over five years since she'd eaten there. She supposed she might be remembering it wrong. The last time she'd been there, had been before things had gone to hell and back with RAPT.

"From what I remember, this place is pretty good," Meg told Yoko as she helped her off the bike. "Sure puts the food at that damn school to shame, anyhow."

"Anything would outshine the food served at the Academy," Yoko agreed, her dark eyes taking in the shop.

_Any place that doesn't put hallucinogenic drugs in your food would outdo that school, _Meg thought sourly as she led the way into the shop, pushing through the door and through the veil of plastic, tacky beads. There were a few people seated at the mismatched tables – Meg forced herself to relax. The place had hardly been touched by the RAPT insanity; something as inconsequential as time wouldn't change this place.

She guessed that had been why Jo had liked this place. There was a stability and permanency to it that was kind of reassuring. For Meg, the food reminded her of her old home in the states.

Turning her mind from the dark retrospection, Meg swaggered up to the counter, her charge following on her heels. The man behind the counter looked vaguely familiar, his grizzled hair slicked back from his face with grease, a silver-shot goatee and a shadow of stubble over his cheeks. He was polishing a few of the plates Meg could see behind the counter, while a few younger boys out the back kitchen worked the stoves.

He gave her a level look as she approached, seeing through her false bravado and her years of training. Meg grimaced at that; he probably remembered the loud-mouthed, ever-hungry and unfocused fool she'd been five years ago. Well, she'd changed since then, even if this place hadn't. She leaned on the counter, meeting his eyes defiantly, nearly daring him to associate her with her past self.

"Been a while, lass," the man said, and his voice was gravelly.

So he did remember, after all. Meg tried not to let that get to her.

"I guess it has," she agreed, taking a quick glance over the food on offer. It hadn't changed, either. She made a show of deciding, looking over the options, before she turned back to her silent companion. "You good with the cheeseburger, Yoko?"

"If that's what you feel is good food," Yoko said, a ghost of a smile on her face. Meg nodded to her, before fixing the old man with a blinding smile.

"Two cheeseburger deals, both with sodas."

The old man lazily took down the details on a dog-eared notepad, stopping several times as his ballpoint pen ran dry, the sounds of the other diners and the hokey-sounding music seeming to grow louder for a moment.

"It'll be about twenty, give or take. Take a seat, lass, your choice."

There wasn't really much of a choice at all, Meg noticed as she and Yoko made their way over to the sets of mismatched tables and chairs. There were, perhaps, two tables not already taken up by the other patrons, and one of those was still covered in plates and used cans of drinks. So, one choice and one choice only. Meg led Yoko to the back of the western-style diner, flopping down in the chair facing the door. No matter how safe she considered the environment, she wouldn't be making the fatal mistake of not watching the door.

Yoko pulled out the chair across from her, nodding to the mercenary as she sat down.

They sat there in uncomfortable silence for a minute or two, Meg trying to look everywhere except at the other woman.

_This is… a lot harder than I thought it would be, _Meg admitted silently. _How the hell do I fish for information, when I don't even know what I'm looking for? I don't even know what to talk about, let alone use as ammo against her…_

Yoko pulled out her planner, tapping the screen with her finger as she sorted through the contents.

_Crap, I'm losing her. Say something, anything! _Meg snarled in her mind, fishing about desperately for something to talk about. She struck gold.

"So, what happened, after Bai-Lan finished up at the Academy?" Meg questioned, leaning forwards on her elbows, her hands folded under her chin. She genuinely wouldn't mind knowing how Yoko got to the position of a secretary of the president of a prestigious company, in just a few short years. Hell, she was just two years out of school.

Yoko looked up, her dark eyes slightly surprised.

"Ah… that's a fairly short story," the Ormicon secretary said in a low voice, adjusting her wire-rimmed glasses. Was it Meg's imagination, or did Yoko hesitate? Meg's eyes narrowed a fraction. Why would Yoko hesitate over something so mundane?

"Sure, but I'd like to know anyhow," Meg announced, fixing Yoko with a gimlet stare. "It's not like we don't have a ton of catching up to do."

A ghost of a smile, again. "I suppose we do."

There was silence, only the crooning voice of the western country singer over the decades old speakers. Raising an eyebrow at Yoko's reticence, Meg leaned forwards in her seat again, forcing the blue-haired woman to meet her eyes.

"Well? How'd you do it?"

Yoko met her eyes levelly. "After you left me at the hospital, I simply went on. When the Academy reopened after the Bai-Lan investigation, my parents sent me back, no matter how I protested. I wanted…" she paused, her eyes suddenly very distant, as if far away from the chattering of the diners, the bad country music, and Meg. "I have no idea what I wanted, but that place still held some bad memories there, for me."

_Same here, _Meg agreed. _But at least I got to leave it behind._

"A lot of the other girls dropped out, after the incident. Bad memories, bad reactions to the drugs. In the end, there was only twenty students in my year level, and even fewer upperclassman. Nadesico certainly had fooled a lot of us, and the Ishtar Club had gotten to a lot of students."

"I'm surprised you let them send you back," Meg remarked, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "I would have run away."

There was that maddening half-smile again. "No. I'm certain you wouldn't have."

_I ran from you, because of the memories that place brought. God only knows how I would have cracked if Sei had made me stay there, to 'continue my education'. _

"In any case, it was not hard to finish at the top of a severely reduced class. In spite of the bad publicity the Saint Luciana Academy had attracted in the previous years, we were still highly exclusive and still had a lot of the top businesses looking for… aspiring individuals."

"And Morholt from Ormicon was one of them?"

That got a laugh. "Mr. Morholt? No, he would never go and meet students, or anything so pedestrian. No, it was Mr. Zuru who I met following graduation. He offered me a spot on Ormicon's secretarial staff."

"…wait, weren't you making noises about going to a university to study art or science?" Meg tilted her head in confusion. It was so long ago, but her memory wasn't _that _dodgy. Was it?

"After the Ishtar Club… incident… I had to re-evaluate my goals in life. I took the job at Ormicon because it was really my only option after my high school graduation. No other employment offers were made, and I was one of the lucky ones. Secondly, Ormicon is a prestigious science facility. If I can work my way into the research and development departments, I'll be receiving world-class training."

"…but instead of working your way into the science facility, you somehow worked your way up the chain of secretaries?"

A light sigh. "Unfortunately, I became Mr. Morholt's secretary earlier this year. Since then, two research positions have come up, but he's turned my application down because he's become… attached to me."

"Sucks to be you," Meg drawled, grinning at Yoko. "But you haven't quit yet, have you?"

"I do find myself enjoying the work Mr. Morholt assigns me," the blue-haired woman admitted as one of the boys from the kitchen set down her plate and drinks, the boy ducking his head in a half-bow. Meg leaned back, as the boy placed her own burger on the table in front of her. Just the way she remembered them.

"Mr. Morholt is a very busy man, especially these days."

Meg cracked open her cherry-flavoured soda, trying to look casual as possible as the hair on the back of her neck prickled. 'These days' was very specific, she noted as Yoko took a drink from her can.

"That so?" she asked carefully, grabbing the bottle of ketchup from the table and emptying nearly half of it on her fries. "What is it that you guys _do_? I always hear about Ormicon in the news, but they're never all that clear on what you guys develop."

Was she imagining things again, or did Yoko hesitate once more?

"Mostly, we develop military-grade weaponry, for the new army of the Hokkaido region's that appeared," Yoko said, but her eyes were wary. "Sometimes medical research. I can't really say, much beyond that."

"I see." Meg forced herself to keep her tone to sound noncommittal. Couldn't Yoko say more, or _wouldn't_ Yoko say more? She focused her eyes on her plate, stripping her gloves from her hands to scoop up a few ketchup-drenched fries. Yoko seemed happy to let the conversation wane for now, as she took a bite of her cheeseburger.

"Huh, this isn't all that bad," Yoko said after she finished her first mouthful. "I admit, I was a little apprehensive about the quality of this place."

Meg smirked. "What'd I say? I told you I'd show you where all the good food is at in Tokyo. This place isn't renowned for its stellar furnishings, but they sure can make a nice burger. What else do you need? Good food, good company is what I always say."

She had to fight the chills running down the back of her neck, though. Military-grade weaponry, supposedly for the Sapporo army. Medical research, and an interest in cybernetic parts they could obtain from someone like Kruegar. And they were ruthless about all of these things.

Meg swallowed a bite of her burger, but she was no longer all that hungry anymore. The parallels to Ormicon and RAPT's development programs were probably just coincidence. Right? Bai-Lan did similar projects on the side. But there was something in Meg's gut that warned her. Maybe Ormicon wasn't nearly as toothless as their public image led Bai-Lan to believe…

* * *

The Councilman's home was more of an apartment complex, Sei noted as she made her way through the polished timber corridors. It was built in traditional Japanese style, the interior doors made of rice paper and wood polished to a shine – she had to wonder how much it had cost him to build. Such a large parcel of land, not too far from Tokyo, would certainly have been pricey.

What really made this situation odd, was that Councillor Daisuke Hiwatari had never been one of the richer men of the Bai-Lan council. Of course, he'd done well enough for himself, but the fact remained that he should have been able to afford something as… extravagant as this.

As Sei strode through the interior of Councillor Hiwatari's home, she heard the sound of slipper-covered feet running after her.

"Don Laoban!" A man Sei recognized as Hiwatari's secretary called out, and finally, Sei stopped. He ran up to her, panting slightly from his run as he offered her a shaky bow. Sei nodded to him, not in the mood for manners at that particular moment.

"I am looking for the Councillor," she told the man in a low voice. "I have made arrangements to meet him in the gardens at noon."

She didn't bother to add that she hadn't announced her arrival for the sole reason of surprising Hiwatari, nor that she'd arrived an hour earlier than the scheduled time. There were serious merits to an off-balance, worried opponent, and Sei frankly needed all the advantages she could get.

"Please, my lady. Allow me to escort you to the gardens. The Councillor has only just made his way there – he wasn't expecting you so soon," the man fussed, checking over his shoulder to see that Sei was following.

_That was the point, my friend. Not all is lost, though. Perhaps this will still give me enough of an advantage to get the information I need from him._

She allowed the secretary to lead her through the traditional corridors of the Councillor's home, quietly observing the build of the place before they arrived at a set of closed double doors. The secretary clucked his tongue for a moment at this, quickly throwing them open.

The garden beyond was beautiful – there was simply no other word for it. Frankly, it made the gardens back in the Laoban ancestral house look plain and tacky. Water features, delicate plants, traditional shrines. She paused for a moment, her eyes searching the gardens quickly.

"I believe the Councillor is in the gazebo," the man's secretary said, when Sei remained silent. "Please, come this way."

The path to the shrine was laid out in a pale, granite-like stone and wound beneath a row of bare cherry-blossom trees, around the delicate wooden water features and, finally, stopped at wooden, open-air gazebo in the centre of the garden. Sei nodded to the man, thanking him silently for escorting her to the Councillor and allowing him to quickly vacate the area. Bai-Lan business was hardly the forte of idle gossip, and Sei didn't want to take chances with how far the secretary could be trusted.

Sei entered the small, wooden structure, surveying the simply-built seats. Councillor Daisuke Hiwatari was settled on one of the wooden benches, a large text open on his lap as his fingers brushed the page as he read. Sei cleared her throat, and suddenly Hiwatari looked up in alarm. The book slid off his lap in his haste to lunge to his feet, his dark eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Don Laoban! This is… an unexpected surprise." The man wiped at his forehead with a handkerchief he'd stashed up his sleeve. "I thought we had scheduled our meeting for noon."

"Councillor," Sei said, dipping into a low bow. The book Hiwatari had dropped had nearly impacted on her foot, and would have made a substantial bruise. "My apologies. The weapons inspection ran shorter than I expected, so I decided to come here directly." The lie was smooth, and he'd have no reason to doubt her. She was Bai-Lan's leader, after all.

"No, no, it's quite all right. You just caught me by surprise." Hiwatari's eyes rested on his fallen book, not far from Sei's feet. "Oh, if you'll excuse me-"

"Not at all," Sei replied, kneeling smoothly and taking the book into her hands. "Interesting reading materials. One would think the old myths and the Chinese constellations was a little out of left field."

"Ah, yes, my lady. It's become a recent interest. The comparison between the Chinese and Japanese interpretations of the Four Symbols has fascinated me."

She brushed the page with the tips of her fingers – a picture of Kiyomizu Temple in eastern Kyoto, and the statue that represented the Azure Dragon of the East. Sei knew only a passing knowledge of Chinese mythology – for all the traditional aspects of her upbringing, constellations and their meanings had hardly been a major focus. Economics, finance, strategy, weapons; that was the appropriate education for a girl who would become the don of a major Chinese syndicate.

"This visit concerns the bizarre change of focus the council has had, since the last meeting." Sei passed the book to Hiwatari, her eyes scanning his face furiously for a hint – _anything. _His eyes looked down from hers suddenly.

_Remorse?_

"Please, my lady. It is not appropriate for me to divulge the inner workings of the council."

Sei leaned against one of the polished, wooden posts of the gazebo. "It never stopped you, in the times we've met before."

"Can you blame a man, for having a change of heart?" Hiwatari said, his voice low as he turned his back on her. He stared out, over the beautiful garden – a garden he hadn't had but two months ago.

_I see. So that's what it is._

"So they bought you off," Sei remarked, placing a hand on his shoulder. She deliberately left out who 'they' were, hoping to prompt him into confirming her suspicions. "Hiwatari…"

He sighed, stroking the cover of the book. "Before the last meeting, a move was spear-headed by some of the other Councillors, to remove you from your office. They said that your obsession with RAPT had grown to dangerous levels, and that your ability to correctly assess profitable situations had become compromised. They had a medical testimony, my lady. I… I could not believe them, so I voted down the proposal."

"Then the majority of the Council still supports me?" That came as a surprise. She had been certain that there was a universal condemnation of her values, if the last meeting was anything to go by. So perhaps she had more support than she first thought.

In the space of a breath, though, Hiwatari dashed that futile hope.

"Barely. You survived that with a hair's breadth to spare, my lady."

It had been an even split, then, or near enough to it that it hardly mattered. A six-six split would have ensured that Sei retained her position, at least until her detractors convinced another Councillor that she was unfit for leadership. What would her grandfather have said…? Sei closed her eyes, removing her hand slowly from Hiwatari's shoulder.

"Who proposed the idea?" Maybe, if she could figure out who was poisoning the Council against her, she could do something to stop it. Buy him off, sack him, get Amy to plant child pornography on his computer – convince Meg that the Councillor was secretly part of RAPT. The last one made her smile, a little. That would have been a particularly vicious revenge.

Hiwatari sighed again, and he looked down at the leather-bound book. "I cannot be certain. In order to properly be certain of the integrity of the votes, we remain anonymous at meetings. You know this, Sei."

"I had hoped something would give them away," she said, her mouth quirking in a slight smile. She was getting cynical, in her old age, if the idea of feeding the traitor to Meg was entertaining. Sobering quickly, Sei turned the aging man towards her, meeting his dark eyes forcefully.

"Councillor, is there anything else you can tell me?"

Again, he looked away. Then was there more going on, that he hadn't told Sei? She had to remind herself forcefully that he'd all but admitted to being paid off. At least she knew, now. And what she knew, she could anticipate, or even buy him back, should it come to it. It was better than exposing a Councillor who'd otherwise been a good man, and have him replaced by another Councillor that could be even more corrupt and even harder to anticipate.

"Anything, Hiwatari. Anything at all?" she pressed, suddenly feeling cold.

His eyes were tired, as he looked back to her. When he spoke, his voice was very low. It was as if he feared discovery, even here in his own home.

"My lady, if you persist in your investigations into Ormicon, I cannot assure you that the Council will not vote against you, the next time it is brought to the table. Perhaps, in light of the bigger picture… it would be better for you to turn your back on locating RAPT."

Sei released his shoulder, forcing her breathing to steady. It was a warning, a very real one. She felt cold, the hair rising on the back of her neck.

_Hiwatari, just how deep does this go?_

Wordlessly, she nodded in thanks to him, striding out of the small gazebo and onto the garden path.

"Oh, and my lady?" Hiwatari called out to her suddenly, jogging after her. Sei turned, her eyebrow raised as he held out the leather-bound book he'd been reading when she'd arrived. "Please, take this as… as a sign of my regret."

Sei took the heavy book into her hands, her fingers brushing on a scrap of paper that had been used as a bookmark. She didn't open the book until she was back in the safety of her car – even then, she had count her breaths to keep her hands steady. Gently opening the book at the marked page, Sei scanned the back of the bookmark.

"_Perhaps it would be worth your time, to question one Councillor Leon Cunnings."_

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Meg hauled herself back to the _Elizabeth. _Following the end of Yoko's lunch hour, Meg had elected to take the rest of the day off to stew and examine the various conspiracy theories involving Ormicon and RAPT tumbling around in her head. The cheap beer she'd kept ordering probably hadn't helped her clear thinking, though, she realized as she stumbled up the airship's boarding ramps.

What she couldn't work out was, how did a company under as much scrutiny as Ormicon have links to public enemy number one, RAPT?

She shook her head, leaning against the wall as she wandered in the general direction of her room. The world spun if she tried to focus her eyes, so it was better if she didn't. God, making shaking her head wasn't such a great idea, either.

Keying in the code to her room took a few tries, and when the doors finally slid open, Meg collapsed on her bed gratefully. She didn't even bother to kick her boots off as she reached for Jo's scarf, only clumsily peeling off her gloves to feel the worn softness of the wool. It was still bright outside, but right now, she just wanted sleep.

It had gone better than she'd expected, today, but she really hadn't learned much of value from Yoko. All she was left with, was a gut instinct that things weren't all they seemed at Ormicon and that, somehow, Sei wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Meg closed her eyes, her mind drifting. She thought she could vaguely hear someone outside her door, calling her name – maybe she was wrong. It took too much effort to listen, at that moment.

Even if her meeting with Yoko had gone well, there was something disturbing about what she was doing. On one hand, she was trying her damnedest to get Jo back, but on the other, Sei was forcing her to flirt with who might be the enemy, just to save her.

_That's just a little bit wrong, _Meg thought bitterly. _What would Jo say, if she had been given this mission? Then again, I can't really imagine any scenario in which Sei would even give her this kind of mission. Ugh._

She must have dozed off for a while, because when she looked out her window again, it was dark. She swallowed thickly, her mouth tasting of cheap beer and grease from the burger. At least her head wasn't spinning anymore, she noted. That was a positive.

Rolling onto her side, she swung her feet down to the floor, leaving Jo's scarf sprawled out over the sheets. It was way past time that she reported to Sei, Meg realized groggily as she pushed herself up. A brief pause to check her message machine, and then she was off into the _Elizabeth's _metallic hallways, blinking as the fluorescent light stung at her tired eyes.

This time, Sei was seated in her private office, a mug of coffee on the table and papers littered all over the metal surface. An old-looking, leather-bound book was resting next to Sei's hand as she scanned the reports on her desk. The Bai-Lan leader looked up as Meg wandered in, raising an eyebrow at her subordinate's bedraggled appearance.

"How did your mission go, Meg?" Sei asked, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips. Meg scowled at her.

"Well enough," she said sourly, as Sei motioned for her to take a seat at the opposite side of the paper-littered table. How the hell could she sit there, _smiling, _when Meg had to face down one of her oldest fears?

_Damn Sei._

The smile seemed to grow a little wider, as Sei dropped the page she was examining back to the pile. "Is that why you reek of cheap beer?"

"Tch. No, I decided to do that afterwards, to waste Bai-Lan's time as much as you wasted mine." Meg crossed her arms over her chest, giving Sei a baleful stare. How could she be having so much fun with this? Sadistic cow. "And that 'cheap beer' comment is a little rich, coming from you. In light of last night."

"I see we're in a bad mood, then," Sei said, as she took a long sip of her coffee.

"We're on fire today, aren't we, Sei?" Her voice was scathing. She probably would not have reacted this badly, had Sei not been enjoying Meg's obvious discomfort so damn much. It had been a long time since Meg had been so far out of her depth, and to find out today that she still had such deep fears…

"Did you find anything useful, today? Or did you come here to snipe at me for a mission you didn't like?"

Meg sighed, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as she quickly sorted back through what she'd learned from Yoko. "Not really, only that Ormicon develops some things that RAPT used to. Military weaponry, biomedical research."

Sei leaned back, her dark eyes distant, calculating. "So it could be innocent, after all."

Meg frowned. When Sei acted like that, it got harder and harder to remember their days as a Bai-Lan cell. Instead of voicing those thoughts, she said, "I dunno, Sei. I just get this… _feeling, _that things with Ormicon aren't all they seem_._"

Sei smiled, though it looked tired. "As much as I trust your gut instinct, Meg, I can't go in front of the Council and tell them to believe me because my top agent has a 'feeling', which is a pity. I'd like for the Council to be so easy to control."

Something in Sei's voice prickled the edges of Meg's tired mind. What had it been, that Amy had said last night? Oh, right. That was it.

"I hear you're having issues with the Council. What's up with that?"

Sei raised an eyebrow, looking suitably surprised. It wasn't usually Meg's style, to worry herself with the inner workings of Bai-Lan, nor the troubles the Council sometimes gave Sei. She felt a brief moment of guilt – she really left Sei alone to deal with all of that stuff, didn't she?

Sei turned her eyes back to the reports on the desk in front of her, her voice forced and level. "They believe I'm too eccentric to effectively lead Bai-Lan, and that my 'conspiracy theories' are going to bring the organization down."

_Oh Sei… How hard must this be on you? _She'd been so wrapped up in her own problems, that she forgot Sei was still very much human.

Instead, Meg snorted in derision. "Of course, those pompous old fools forget, how you and your grandfather salvaged the organization after _they _locked us into contract with RAPT. If it were up to them, we'd have been dragged down _along _with RAPT."

"Councils do have short memories. But the fact is I need proof, to support the claim that RAPT exists and that Bai-Lan is right to keep chasing them."

"I believe you," Meg offered, knowing how useless that sounded. The backing of Bai-Lan's loosest cannon; Sei must feel _so_ supported.

Sei smiled ruefully, taking another long sip from her coffee. "Thankyou, Meg. But regardless of my problems with the Council, I still need you to work on Yoko Ketsu. She's our only link to Ormicon, and potentially the link to RAPT."

"…right," Meg sighed. She'd known that it would come to this – the lack of information she'd obtained had pretty much guaranteed that she'd be spending a few lunches with Yoko in the future. She'd just hoped that it wouldn't be the case.

"Just relax. We need you to do this," Sei reminded her, gently. "You're doing an important mission for Bai-Lan."

"Whatever, Sei. I'll try to learn more next time. I just have to get her to trust me."

* * *

Beth kept her eyes fixed on the blurry computer monitor, sipping the extra strong coffee Kirk had brought her when he'd visited the security department, not quarter of an hour ago. Stationed on yet another double shift, even _she _needed a boost to keep her going when she faced another ten hours at the same terminal.

She rolled her stiffening shoulders, cracking her neck and generally trying to get more comfortable. It was looking to be a long night, with the scientists working overtime on the project once again. Things were certainly speeding up – was some kind of deadline nearing, that they had to adhere to? Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

The subjects were getting more human, in recent days. More, those that were human were getting less identical to their genetic donor, something Beth was not sure of. Good or bad, it was hard to determine, but from the look of things, that was what the scientists were angling for. Especially given how hard the scientists were arguing with Maria, over how _that _particular specimen should not be sacrificed to the Gauntlet and Maria's endless hatred, that _that _one was the closest they'd come in five years-

Of course, they never actually said what it was they were trying to create, something which had annoyed Beth greatly.

Beth averted her eyes as the latest batch of specimens were loaded into the Gauntlet, listening absently to the sound of machineguns firing, screams tearing out from throats and roars from the more inhuman of the beasts.

Surprisingly though, the current lot lasted close to an hour in the Gauntlet, far outstripping those that had come before it. She rested her chin in her palm, checking the other feeds quickly. She had to give the barest impression that she was doing her job, after all.

The guards began to collect the bullet-shredded remains from the Gauntlet, and Beth quickly gave them the go-ahead to dump the bodies in the usual spot. The bodies were torn beyond recognition now, and she was not longer able to tell which had been humanoids, and which had been monsters.

Still, the length of time they'd survived was troubling. The project, whatever sick reason it was for, was definitely coming to a head.

Worse, Meg still hadn't figured it out, yet. What more did she have to do to get the girl to come here and put a spanner in RAPT's plans? Her eyes flickered over to the screens, watching the RAPT guards dispose of the mutants and the humans. The gore didn't bother her – she'd seen worse. But there was something flitting on the edge of her awareness…

_Mutants mean they use those slightly radioactive cybernetic brains, _she realized, a smirk coming to her lips. _And that means they leave a trace. If I put the right word in the right ear, they can connect the dots themselves…_

Beth leaned back, staring at Maria's visage on the screen. It was a way to lead them to the answer, without seeming directly responsible. She couldn't get caught just yet, though. There were still a lot of things she had to do.

* * *

Takane Katsu yawned widely, stretching her arms out as she submitted her final report on the Mirage raid. From the looks of the charges the Initiative had laid on him, Shates was going away for a substantial amount of time. With the boy's confession to the trafficking of the dangerous substance, the trial was a mere formality. Her new boys had done well, if Takane could be bothered to admit such a thing. Wilder had done some good work with them, since her last visit to his district.

Waving to a few Initiative officers that she passed on her way to her temporary office, Takane collapsed into the worn, leather-covered armchair and propped her booted feet up on the desk, her arms crossed behind her head as she toyed with the toothpick between her teeth with her tongue.

She let a few moments go by, staring at her usual spot on the wall. Satisfied with the idea that she was now alone in her office, she let her guard down, taking up a sheet of paper that had been on her desk, her eyes glancing over her incomprehensible, scribbled notes.

Following the submission of a couple of… patchy reports over the past few weeks, Chief Katsu had sent her to Station 49 to assess the internal integrity of the officers there. She chewed on her toothpick thoughtfully, studying her notes on each of the officers in 49 and their commanding sergeant. So far, there had been little to substantiate her father's concerns over Station 49, nor had she encountered deliberate circumventing of the law during her stay. Sure, there had been a little sloppy work, but that wasn't exactly a capital offence. And their performance during the raid on the Red Dragons hideout had been certainly up to scratch.

She sighed, cracking her neck restlessly. This 'subtle' bullshit route, that her father had forced her to take, was giving her a headache. Couldn't she just line them up in an interrogation room, and find out where the stories did not intersect? Oh, but Takane, they'd see you coming and be driven underground at the smallest hint of a threat. She scowled to herself. Things had been a whole lot easier, back before Iriki Azuma had betrayed them.

In the quiet station beyond her door, Takane could hear the phone ringing. She waited for a moment, hoping that someone else would pick up the call so that _she _wouldn't have to, but alas, it seemed not to be.

Growling under her breath about headaches and lazy newbies, Takane grabbed the phone and recited, "You've reached Station 49 of the Tokyo-Osaka Hanshin Police Initiative, what can I help you with this time?"

The first thing Takane noticed was that the phone had been set to audio only. The second thing she noticed was that there was a heavy amount of distortion, coming from the other end of the line.

Her eyes narrowed, the hair on the back of her neck rising.

"_I do not have much time, so I must be brief. Go to Shinagawa, and in the basement of the old armoury there, you will find them."_ The voice was feminine, but highly distorted.

"Find _what?_ Be a little clearer, _ma'am, _or I'm gonna trace this phonecall and come down on you like a firestorm for wasting my time with a prank call," Takane spat, rising to her feet. This brought back too many bad memories – how he'd fooled them all so well, how he'd sold them out to RAPT and destroyed all they'd worked for. She clenched her teeth.

"_Calm down. Take as many men as you like, but please. Be quick, before they get nervous and move the bodies again."_

With that, there was a click, and Takane knew that the caller had severed the connection. Takane let the phone fall, her mind working furiously. By the time the phone hit the floor, she was out of the office and shouting for officers to help attend the tipoff.

If this tipoff was genuine, Takane thought furiously as she grabbed her bokken and charged out of Station 49, then she didn't have time to waste. As she lunged onto her chopper and sped off into the heavy Tokyo traffic, she just prayed that the woman had made a mistake in saying 'bod_ies_'…

* * *

The old armoury in Shinagawa had been a supplier for RAPT, and later TOHPI, until its owner up and died not a year back. Ever since then, it had been on the market. Honestly, Takane had wondered why – until now. She heard the sound of police cars pulling up behind her, sirens blaring as she jumped off her chopper.

Wilder strode over to her as the other Initiative officers began to divert traffic away from the old store, his dark eyes questioning.

"Takane, what the hell is this?" he asked harshly as he followed her to the armoury's boarded-up door.

"What's it look like? A country picnic?" She cursed loudly then, grabbing at boards and giving it a tug. Hell, whoever had boarded up this place did one heck of a job. She pushed her brown hair out of her eyes, glaring at Wilder. "Don't just stand there like some slaw-jawed yokel, give me a hand!"

Wilder hesitated for a moment, before grabbing one of the old planks and yanking it clean off the doorframe. The man _was_ built like a bear, after all. She'd seen him fracture wrists with the power behind his grip, so she wasn't sure why she was surprised as she was.

Between the two of them, they quickly cleared what remained of the boards away from the door. Takane nodded to the sergeant, waving him to the side as she let out a feral cry and planted her boot against the worn wood, busting the door from its hinges and tearing it from the lock. She spat off to the side in contempt, grabbing Wilder's flashlight as she stepped into the darkness of the abandoned store.

The old armoury was dusty from the year of disuse it had suffered, pale sections of streetlight filtering in through the grime-streaked windows. Takane quickly scanned the room, her grip tightening around the bandage-wrapped grip of her bokken and the flashlight. There was the sound of rats gnawing on wires in the wall, the scuttle of tiny clawed feet against plaster. Cursing, she rested her bokken on her shoulder.

"There's nothing here, Katsu," Wilder said, moving beside her. She could hear the other Initiative officers moving into the store, the crunch of grit and splinters underfoot as they glanced about the room warily.

"Tch. I ain't leaving, not until I've checked out the basement here," Takane drawled, as she moved forwards. There was a door behind the dusty counter, and she vaulted over the bench easily. "Wilder, you're with me. You two, stay out here and make sure nobody comes here. If we don't make it back in ten minutes, radio for backup."

"Takane, you're being ridiculous. Who was that caller? This must be a prank. The Katazukis were a respected family, surely you can't be serious-"

"Wilder, I _am _serious. When it comes to the law, I don't get much more serious. Now get your butt over here. I need someone watching my back down there."

He sighed, sliding over the counter as Takane pushed the door to the basement open. He was oddly reluctant, Takane noted grimly. Normally, Wilder was one of the first ones to back her more outlandish hunches up. But this time…

The stench hit her, almost a solid wave of sickly air. She nearly gagged, leaning against the doorframe as she clamped a hand over her mouth and nose, her stomach rebelling.

_Hold it together, Katsu. What would you dad say, if he saw you squirming like a teenage bimbo who'd never taken her first life? This ain't the first dead body you've seen, nor is it gonna be the last. _She straightened, pulling herself together as she began to descend the steps to the basement. Wilder followed, a few steps behind her, his flashlight darting over the white-washed bricks of the walls. The smell only got worse with each step – just how many bodies _were _there?

She let her flashlight rest on the first of the bodies, as her booted foot hit solid concrete.

There were, perhaps, fifty bodies stored down here, just in haphazard, mutilated piles of limbs and blood.

_Oh god, what is this? What the hell have we just found? _She felt cold sweat trickle between her shoulderblades as her eyes darted over the mounds, over the blood and the mouths caught in grimaces of agony when they died.

"Holy _shit,_" she whispered, then the realization hit her with the force of a bullet train. The number of bodies was not the question – it was whether or not those bodies were entirely human. Green blood mixed with red in large stains over the concrete, scales, horns and mandibles -

Takane closed her eyes for a second, bending to turn over one of the more human corpses in the pile. A tattoo was scrawled across the body's left arm and shoulder, long silver hair matted with blood, entire divots of flesh torn from her body by machinegun fire.

She looked up at Wilder, releasing the decomposing body with a shove as she stood. The smell was almost unbearable, but she forced a grin she didn't feel.

"Looks like we found ourselves a little RAPT hidey-hole," she said. "We're gonna need that back-up after all."


	11. White is Black

"So," Amy said, with the air of a great announcement. The effect was slightly spoiled by the fact her mouth was full of rice and curry. "Here's a real noodle-scratcher. My current project! Do androids dream of electric sheep?"

The dinner hall was quieter than usual, what with half the agents off on missions, and the other half home with their families. For Sei's original cell, the _Elizabeth _was their home, and the people on board, their family. Amy supposed that there were worse people to be stuck with, normally. Then again, Sei normally didn't look so troubled, nor Meg so hung over and miserable. What had she said, before? About angst dragging the mood of the whole of the airship down? Oh yeah, dead on. There was definitely a Nobel Prize in it, for the first person who could explain _that _annoying phenomenon.

Time to get back to the original question.

"Chew with your mouth shut," Meg growled, shovelling another chopstick-load of rice into her mouth. "And don't talk with your mouth full."

"You are _such _a hypocrite," Amy said with a sniff, crossing her arms across her chest. "Besides, it's a serious question. It'd help Nana and Hachi reach a whole new level of functionality-"

"Enough, Amy." Sei was scanning a report in one hand, eating with the other. Amy could remember that once, they'd eaten dinner together, and that nobody brought reports or Bai-Lan missions to the table. Well, that was _definitely_ a long time ago. It was sad.

Meg finished her mouthful, pointing her chopsticks at Amy suddenly. "I don't really see how making Nana and Hachi dream about sheep is gonna help them."

"Well, that just shows how much of a failure you are at robotics-"

"Meg! Amy! _Please. _Can you please just eat dinner, without resorting to insults and nagging?_" _Sei gave the two of them the gimlet eye, setting down her report. Finally given up on doing work at the table, had she? Well, it was about _time. _Gawd, she'd been waiting for that for twenty minutes, now. It never usually took Sei this long to work out that Amy wouldn't stand for work at the dinner table.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Meg rolling her eyes. Amy snorted to herself, and then pushed her half-finished plate of food away.

"It's just not the same," she said tragically, dumping her disposable chopsticks on top of the remains of the curry. The starving mercenary across from her was still devouring food as if it were going out of style, all the while glowering at her suspiciously; on the other hand, Sei just raised an eyebrow

"And what would that be, Amy?" Sei paused in her meal, folding her hands in front of her face and giving Amy a _very _serious look. Why did she always have to take things so damn hard?

"I miss Kyohei's curries. His were the best." Amy cocked her head, grinning slyly at the two of them and grabbing the instant pudding to her left.

Meg chewed for a moment, frowning. From time to time, Amy had wondered about that. Thinking always seemed to be painful for Meg, especially given that dead serious frown and the grimace that usually came to her face. Finally, she nodded, smiling at Amy.

"Yeah, I kinda agree," Meg said, moving around the rice on her plate, sighing. "If there was anything that wimp was good at, it was making food."

Amy's smug smile changed to one of remembered bliss, as she cracked open the pudding. "Remember his awesome cookies?"

The woman across the table sniffed, in a very unladylike fashion. "How can I remember? You always gobbled them all up, before I ever got a chance to taste them."

"That's just how awesome I am. You would have put on twenty pounds, had I not taken the bullet for you. You can thank me any time you like," Amy replied airily, waving the spoon around in a mockery of waving to cheering fans.

Before Meg could formulate a stinging retort, Sei seized the lull in conversation to steer it towards less touchy topics.

"Kyohei was certainly good at what he did," Sei said, her tone mild as she took up her own pudding. Sei, Don of the Laoban clan, She Who Smites RAPT, scourge of the Kokuren clan, was eating pre-packaged pudding like some no-name agent. Suddenly, that seemed incredibly funny to Amy.

"I'm glad that he managed to get to France," she finished, as Amy sniggered to herself quietly.

"Yeah… He did pretty good." Meg smiled then, leaning on an elbow as she stared at her empty plate, her eyes suddenly very distant. She was remembering other times, 'better' times, Amy realized with a sinking heart. For all Amy's efforts to lift the mood of their broken circle, she'd made things worse?

_How to address this failure in my plans? Another flurry of insults? Nonsensical questions? Food fight?_

"How are your studies going, Amy? Do I need to hire a tutor to cover the next subjects and exams?" Sei cut across her thoughts smoothly, almost as if she'd known that Amy had been plotting trouble, chaos and food-slinging madness.

Amy waved a hand, the picture of outraged elitism. "Psh. I could probably outsmart most of those 'tutors' you keep saddling me with. Honestly, Sei, when I know more about calculus than those idiots, you know you're being fleeced for cash."

"She wouldn't have had to 'saddle you with them', if you hadn't failed that test last year," Meg pointed out as she started on her own pudding. Amy turned a winning smile onto the naysayer – who looked wary.

"Says the one who dropped out of high school at fourteen."

Meg rolled her eyes again, and Amy laughed evilly. If Meg didn't want Amy using that particular confession as ammunition, she never should have told a blackmailer like Amy. Really, it was Meg's own fault. There was a long moment of silence, and Meg began to fiddle with her spoon. The plastic cup of pudding was left forgotten, off to the side.

_Uh oh. Here it comes._ Amy's stomach sank.

"So… Amy…" Meg's blue eyes stared determinedly at the metallic surface of the table, her voice feigned to sound light, uncaring. It was a lie, and all three of them at the table knew it. "How goes the RAPT case? You said you might be able to use the info."

_Gawd. Me and my big mouth. _Amy regretted saying anything at all, now. She'd been caught up in the moment, in making Meg as uncomfortable as possible. But with info as vague as 'A-12', just what was she supposed to do with it?

She couldn't bring herself to say this, though. Not when Meg was so damn volatile.

Instead, she said, "It's kinda hard to say. I've hit a dead end with all information. I've run the gamut of every database and every system, and nothing… I'm starting to think that it might be a RAPT categorization only… I'm sorry Meg. I'll keep looking, but I can't really promise _anything _at this stage."

* * *

"I see," Meg forced out, feeling as if she'd been sucker-punched by Kruegar. Yet another useless lead, while Maria held Jo at her mercy and tortured her within an inch of her life, _time and time again. _Her stomach roiled, and she suddenly couldn't bear the pity in Amy's eyes. The less charitable part of her mind was noting that if Amy had time to be fooling around with her food, then she had time to be tracking RAPT. The rest of her mind felt numb.

Abruptly, she pushed her chair back, letting her bangs hide her eyes as she stood.

"Meg-" Amy began, but Sei held up a hand to stall the hacker. Meg was grateful for that much – she wasn't sure she could handle hearing Amy's reasons, not now, not even if they'd probably make sense. Some things were just too much to bear.

The halls of the _Elizabeth _were quiet as she made her way through them, only the sound of her boots striking the smooth floors. It seemed to echo in the disturbing quietness.

Meg made it back to her room just in time, for her anger reached boiling point as soon as the door slid closed behind her. She whirled and slammed her fist into the reinforced metal of her walls, feeling pain bloom through the knuckles of her right fist as she smashed her left into the spot next to it. Meg pounded her fists on the wall, again and again, over and over. The skin on her knuckles tore and broke, until finally, she collapsed against it, helpless tears of agony and regrets streaming down her face.

_Useless, _her mind hissed to her, strangely menacing. _You're nothing but a useless hanger-on who dragged Jo down, and only decided to change when you realized that it had been your fault she'd died._

Meg slid down the wall, exhausted and sobbing, staring at the blood smeared on her knuckles.

It wasn't fair. Things always worked out for them before, even when they had next to zero chance of succeeding. She supposed that the difference was that Jo had been extraordinary. Meg was barely competent. Wiping away her tears with her fingers, Meg dragged herself over to her bed, taking the scarf sprawled over it in a vice-like grip.

"Why am I such a failure, Jo?" she whispered, burying her face into its softness. It had long since lost the scent of its previous owner, but old habits died hard. "I can't even get simple information from Yoko."

Another point in her long list of failures, she noted grimly. While Yoko had warmed up to her, Meg had been unable to find out anything more. Maybe it was just a coincidence, that RAPT's old projects and Ormicon's were so highly correlated. She lay on her back, staring at the darkened roof of her room as she tried to steady herself.

_And Yoko wants to meet me, again. Even now, even five years later, anything with a connection to that Academy brings back nightmares. _

She still wasn't entirely sure what had happened, when she'd been drugged. Only that one moment she'd been forced to consume the hallucinogen, and the next thing she knew Jo had come for her. Sometimes, when she slept, she could almost remember – her mind shied away from the memories.

Now was not the time to scratch open old wounds, she reminded herself forcefully. Locating RAPT was depending on how well she could get information from Yoko. She didn't need half-baked ideas about that Academy muddying the water right now.

She sighed, the tears drying on her cheeks as she fruitlessly sought sleep.

* * *

Takane was eyeing Kirk Wilder as they loaded the last of the mutated bodies into the Initiative-marked van. The backup hadn't taken long to arrive, and she'd immediately put half of them to create a _large _perimeter around the old Katazuki armoury. Preferably, one so large that the passersby and reporters wouldn't be able to see them extract monsters and god only _knew _what else from the basement of the abandoned building.

They'd done that well – one of the more creative officers had retrieved some riot-class barricades from the TOHPI storage rooms and they'd set those up to reinforce the perimeter.

_At this rate, that kid'll have a promotion in no time flat, _she'd noted with satisfaction as she'd watched them scramble about to fill her orders. _Maybe the Initiative wasn't such an idiot idea after all. _

Takane's satisfaction had dimmed, when she'd turned her attention back to the bodies they'd located in the basement. Many of them had been badly decomposed, and the more bodies they extracted, the less human they were becoming. By the final few corpses, Takane wasn't even sure that they'd ever _been _human at all. Maybe a distant relative of the Japanese Spider Crab, but human? She might have scoffed once, but she'd seen the slow transition backwards.

Whatever RAPT was doing, it wasn't breeding monsters. Or, not monsters in their usual sense. No, the bodies were getting decidedly more human. More and more, though, she was starting to recognize some key traits in all the human bodies. Silver hair, for one; mutated tattoos, for another. Oh, that was familiar all right…

All up, though, Takane had counted fifty-three bodies, and she'd made sure she'd examined every one of those bodies before it had been loaded into the van. That way, if something happened to the van en route to the TOHPI labs, they'd at least have her observations to work from.

She still watched Wilder, though, the pit of her stomach sinking in distrust as took in every detail about him. The way he didn't seem to be surprised by the sheer _number _of bodies they'd found, nor of the decidedly non-human characteristics they had. Like how he'd tried to convince her to stop searching the old building.

Wilder was wiping his forehead with his sleeve, looking exhausted. From a hard day's work, or from the stress of keeping up his cover? She couldn't be sure.

"Damn RAPT's got some nerve," he told her as he closed the back doors to the van, bolting them shut. "I was planning on getting away from the station early for a change."

_Like how he doesn't even care that we've found bodies at all. _

Takane rounded the side of the van, coming up onto the driver's side. Wilder was sticking to her side like a burr – it was near stifling. But what was the alternative? Letting him out of her sight, to do god only knew how much damage to the operation? She didn't let her irritation show on her face as she slapped the driver's door to get his attention.

"All right, Vicks. I want you to take this lot straight for the TOHPI labs, and let me make this clear to you. _Do not stop for anything. _I don't care if you piss your pants, old man, but I'll have you shoved in prison for the rest of your life if you disobey this order." Takane was laying it on thick with a loyal man like Vicks; she knew that. Right now, she just didn't care.

The driver scowled at her, the engine of the truck roaring to a start as he began to make his way to the TOHPI labs. Takane watched the truck exit the barricade, accompanied by a couple of Kanbaku bikers that Takane had been able to call in. They formed a protective escort around the truck. Her stomach felt like it had been torn out and replaced with writhing snakes of apprehension – she cursed to herself. She hoped that they'd make it to the labs.

Breathing out sharply, Takane rounded on Wilder in a whirl of skirt and trenchcoat, her bokken whipping out from the ties on her back as she levelled it at him. She'd been stung by _Iriki_ Azuma's betrayal, been oblivious to the obvious in spite of it being her _job_. Damnit, she wasn't going to get caught flat-footed again. You had to trust your gut in Tokyo.

"Now, you'd better damn well explain yourself," she ground out, through clenched teeth. A couple of the newer Initiative officers, who were manning the perimeter, looked aghast at her actions as she circled the man. They didn't move to defend Wilder, though. Her eyes flickered back to him, narrowing as he smiled at her.

"Katsu, what's the meaning of this?" he asked, that mocking not reaching his eyes. Wilder spread his hands, almost as if to pacify her. "If you have something to say, say it."

"Fine. Maybe I will," she spat, not bothering to lower her bokken. "Tell me. Why did you seek to circumvent police investigation into the Katazuki armoury?"

Wilder didn't move from where he stood, but he laughed. "_That's _what this is about? I thought it was a waste of the Initiative's resources to chase up an unimaginative prank call."

"That's bullshit," Takane snarled. There was no way that it would be as simple as that. Not when her gut instinct was screaming that this man was her enemy.

_Trust your gut instinct, trust your gut instinct –_

But it would just be so easy to let this slide, just this once. She didn't lower the bokken, but her grip slackened.

"That's the truth," the burly policeman corrected, knocking aside Takane's bokken with a negligent hand. "Was that everything, Katsu? Or did you want to ask how I supposedly got _all _these bodies here? If you're trying to set me up for these bodies, at least have a little proof."

Takane watched him climb into the front seat of his car, her stomach roiling. Of course, it had been a bad idea to confront Wilder in public, with so little to back her up. Her father had always berated her hot-headed and impulsive nature.

But damnit all, she wasn't going to let this situation devolve into another Iriki Azuma fiasco.

"Next time," she muttered, sliding the bokken back into place on her back, "I'll have all the evidence I need. Don't you worry 'bout that."

* * *

It didn't take a genius of Amy's level to work out that Meg was upset, and that her lack of progress on the RAPT front was to blame. After finishing her food in the mess hall, she'd excused herself from Sei's company and made her way down the empty _Elizabeth _halls, making a beeline for where she knew Meg would be going. So, she just stood there now, hovering apprehensively outside Meg's closed door, listening to the pounding of Meg's fists against unforgiving steel, grimacing at the sound and the violence behind the strikes. Amy's eyes were fixed on the ground, and she cursed herself harshly.

Meg had been relying on her to use the information, and to locate RAPT. Amy didn't want to say that Meg's faith in her skills had been misplaced, but it was definitely looking like it, right now.

Amy lifted her gaze, leaning her head back against the metal door and closing her eyes. Maybe she was losing her touch. Maybe, she was spending too much time worrying about the mental conditions of Sei and Meg, when she should have been doing her job.

From the other side of the door, the slamming of fists against metal slowed, and Amy gave a shaky sigh. Pushing herself off the door, she headed to her room, grabbing her coat and bag. Seriously, she didn't think she could stand being on the ship right now, not like this. She quickly exited down the _Elizabeth_'s boarding ramps_, _breathing in the cold night air.

_Smells like freedom, _Amy thought wryly, digging her hands deeply into her pockets as she set a brisk pace. The computer district wasn't located all that far from the docks the _Elizabeth _was at, so it wasn't like she'd be walking all that long. Sei and Meg probably wouldn't even miss her, or just assume she was buried in programming in her room.

_Things have changed in Bai-Lan, _Amy decided, waiting at a set of lights for the signal to change. _Back before Jo was gone, Sei used to pay attention, Meg used to hang around with me, and Kyohei was always easy pickings when I wanted food. And Jo was there, which meant that Sei and Meg were happy. I was happy._

The signal changed, and Amy moved with the crowds, shivering slightly. In spite of the coat, the night's chill was getting into her skin.

_But then Bai-Lan allied itself with RAPT. In retaliation, Sei attacked RAPT, and we all helped her take them down. She was hurt because of that, and Jo was taken. Things started to change then, even though I didn't exactly notice it at the time. Sei was grimmer because of her injuries, and Meg…_

Meg had become virtually unresponsive. She slept, she ate little. Nothing but a hollow shell of the vibrant friend that Amy used to hang around with. A few months later, and suddenly the redhead changed again. Instead of being buried in mourning, Meg went out to the firing range and practiced with her gun. Things were different, but not so much that it was weird. Jo was gone, Sei was in rehabilitation and Meg was driven to better herself, but there was still a sense of familiarity to everything.

_And then Sei's grandfather died. That was when things really changed, _Amy decided, staring at the open door to the internet café, _Golbat's Café,_ she could usually find her friends at. She should go in, but her feet seemed frozen to the ground. She was being stupid – maybe her friends would be able to come up with some angle that Amy had neglected to search properly. Looking up at the darkened sky, far above the neon lights of Tokyo, she sighed.

_People talk of change like it's always a good thing. But I'd give anything, anything at all, to go back to that one carefree year, as a Bai-Lan cell. _

* * *

"Amy! You've finally come back!" a dark-haired boy, half Amy's age, squealed as he launched himself at her. Trying not to let a resigned sigh slip, Amy patiently used the boy's momentum, swinging the boy around her body as she deflected the attempted glomp. Saji was the son of the café's owner, and was an avid gamer in his own right. Amy had stopped attempting to play games with him a long time ago – getting a new asshole ripped _every _single time she played the boy was a bit too much for her dignity to bear.

Amy set the boy down, nodding.

"Are you going to play Super Worm Wars with me again? I've missed playing you, and Koji's not really hard to beat," the boy complained, pouting up at her. Koji, the boy's older brother, gave a long-suffering sigh from where he sat at a computer terminal. Around Amy's age, he didn't share his brother's freakish ability at games, but was more inclined to hack the game codes to give himself a fighting chance.

"Er, maybe next time, Saji," Amy forced out, wondering just why Saji thought she'd be any harder to defeat than Koji. Maybe he didn't remember her last stinging defeat. It had taken them several hours, but in the end he'd won. Oh, her wounded pride…

She straightened, walking over to where Koji was sitting and leaning on the desk.

"Amy," he said, not looking up from the screen as he typed something rapidly in computer code.

"Koji," she sniffed in reply, crossing her arms over her chest. "I was hoping that a few of the others would be here tonight, but I guess not."

"It's a school night, what do you expect?" Koji asked, adjusting his heavy-rimmed glasses as he looked up at her. He was a scrawny boy, but not exactly bad-looking. More of a decent average, she decided, but not really Amy's type.

"Pft, school night. There's a dumb excuse, if I've ever heard one," she said airily, craning over his shoulder to examine the code he was working on. "Homeschooling and tutors for the epic win."

"Not everyone has tutors, Amy," he told her, his voice sounding a little bit miffed at her comments as he deleted the last section of code. "In fact, not everyone is progressing at such a phenomenal rate like you. You might be ready to finish school, Amy, but please spare a thought for us 'lower peons'."

"You're only a peon because you think like that," she said, grinning to take the edge off her words. "Anyway, I came here for a reason, not just to get on your nerves."

"Woopdedoo," he muttered dryly, but for once, he didn't tell her to get lost. She considered _that _a point in her favour.

"I've been working on a, uh, pro-bono case for Bai-Lan in the past few weeks," she began, unsure of how much to tell him. She trusted Koji, but hell, it was _Bai-Lan _business. If he carelessly blogged about this, Sei would wring her neck, not to mention what would happen if RAPT got wind of the information.

"So that's why you haven't been hanging around. Skye and Light were wondering just last week, about where you'd gotten off to. Saji's theory was that the _Elizabeth's _super computer finally devoured your consciousness and soul."

"Ha, freakin' ha. You lot are such _cards_."

Koji smiled at the vehemence in her tone. "We do try."

"Whatever," Amy said, waving her hand to get him to shut his damn mouth. For a computer nerd, he sure flapped his gums at lot. "Either way, the only lead I have on this job is 'A-12'. Do you have any idea of how frustrating that is?"

"It's both very specific, and very vague," Koji agreed, pushing his glasses up his nose, his eyes speculative. "Context?"

"I'm thinking location. That was what our source said, but I'm not sure how reliable that guy is. Drug-addled street thugs aren't always that awesome to work with."

Koji chewed on his lower lip, his eyes thoughtful. "Have you looked at maps? Different measures of lines of latitude and longitude? Inverse?"

She gave him a flat look.

"Okay, okay. How about something post codes? Building permit numbers that begin with that number? Licence numbers, coding?"

"Koji, what do you take me for? I have picked my brain over this, and I can't come up with anything. I was hoping you might come up with something new, but I can see now that your imagination has been spoiled by online porn sites."

He spluttered for a moment, drawing himself up to his whole, unimpressive height.

"Still, thanks for playing," Amy added, then sighed, looking around the busy café. Busier than normal for a week night, she noted. There was only one reason that could be, so she grinned at him. "So, you guys got that neurotech gear in?"

Koji, still looking like he wanted to take her to task over her comment, nodded at the mention of the café's new 'babies'. After a year of petitioning and saving, _Golbat's Café _had finally gotten the top of the line neurotech equipment in, for their gaming customers. No longer did they have to stare at a flat screen for their virtual kicks and shootouts – now, the games took place before their eyes. Using a specially-developed full-body suit, the gear simulated battle situations and the electrodes in the helmet fooled the brain into thinking that the game was _actually _happening.

Amy had been waiting for a chance to fool around with military-grade neurotech for _ages. _The half-baked stuff at the arcades just wasn't the same; not only was it glitchy at the best of times, it was severely limited and clunky to boot.

She'd contributed no small amount of her pay to getting this thing off the ground.

"Word still hasn't gotten around, yet, but we're confident things will start heating up soon. So if you want a long session of _Beast Commanders, _I suggest you do so, before then." Koji leaned back, somewhat satisfied with the neurotech's success. Amy considered it for a moment.

"You got _Beast Commanders _in_, _you say? Maybe, since you're about as helpful as hole in the head," she said, then paused. She was positive that Meg, and maybe even Sei, would enjoy a round with some high-quality neurotech. Give them a bit of time to work out their frustrations… Maybe a bit of gaming would take her mind off her troubles.

"Yeah," Amy decided, firmly. "I think I will give it a whirl."

* * *

Beth's eyes were sandy, and she stifled a yawn as she made her way back to the rat-infested apartment that she called home. Twenty-four hours a computer terminal, looking at grainy feed the whole time, was enough to effect even someone like her. Her backpack, slung carelessly over one shoulder, thudded rhythmically against her side as she limped down the long, dark alleyway.

The sturdy walking stick was the only quarter Beth gave herself in regards to her destroyed knee – she limped along determinedly in the dark, listening to the traffic roar by on the major roads, not a block over. She refused to become an invalid, not now and not ever. So she continued doggedly onwards, in spite of the sharp pain knifing down the back of her thigh and into the damaged joint. Just keep going, don't show pain and don't show fear, she reminded herself. It took more and more effort, these days, to recall her training.

Unlike many of her RAPT colleagues, Beth had refused the supplied quarters for their personnel, instead keeping her small apartment she rented. There'd be too many questions asked, she'd told her employers when she was asked about it. Too obvious to move.

Of course, it wasn't because she had too much to hide from RAPT. Not at all.

She limped along in the dark alleys, quickly checking her digital watch. 2:45am – she felt a twinge of annoyance. Her next shift would start in six hours, and she'd not caught a single glance of her target that night. Where the hell was RAPT hiding Jo? She'd been certain that Jo would be there tonight. No such luck – just more of the usual specimens.

Still, if she didn't get home soon, she'd regret it. Even she needed sleep.

Unfortunately, it seemed that an uneventful journey home wasn't to be. There was the scuff of boots on concrete to her right, and Beth's eyes slid over to identify the source.

_How many? And how well trained? Have RAPT finally become suspicious of me?_

"Hello, hello there," a voice cracked from the shadows, a man slithering out from the shadows. "What do we have here, boys?"

As if to answer his question, five other men emerged from the shadows to follow him – some armed with bats, some with chains and knuckle dusters. Beth sighed. Just her luck – a gang of professional muggers, if that wasn't an oxymoron in itself. At least her first instinct had been incorrect, and for that she was grateful. She wasn't sure that she could keep up with a RAPT assassin, not with her knee the way it was.

"So what's a pretty woman like you doing out on the streets, so late?" one asked her, cracking his knuckles and limbering up his arms by swinging his dented bat. Beth kept an eye on him – she could see blood splatters near the handle. So a gang of thugs with _teeth…_

"A cripple, no less. Thought you'd know better by now," another laughed. "So what've you got in that backpack?"

She didn't have time to deal with this, she thought tiredly as they approached her, slinking in the dark shadows of the alleyway. They didn't even have the balls to attack her in the open light, only cowered in the dark like frightened little boys. They were a mockery, and she wasn't going to stand for this. Still, she should give them a chance to turn around and flee.

"I'm going to give you fools to the count of three to get out of here," Beth told them, letting her voice relax into a menacing tone. "One."

A chorus of laughter from the thugs.

"You really think you can _order _us around?" the first demanded, spitting to the side. "You're a self-righteous bitch, aren't you?"

"Two," she whispered harshly, loosening her grip on her walking stick. It seemed like they _really _wanted to dance – she hadn't had a chance to in a while. Her right arm itched.

"We'll show you what we do with uppity whores, around here!" One of the men lunged for her, his hands closing about her throat, before falling away. The man screamed as his severed arms fell to the filthy Tokyo ground, and Beth lashed out with the hollow sheath of her cane, smashing him in the side of the head and felling him in one stroke.

"Three." Her voice was deadly quiet, and the sounds of sirens sounded in the distance. She flicked the blood from the thin katana she had concealed in her walking stick, moving smoothly into stance, her blade ready but her knee screaming in agony.

The leader's mouth worked furiously, and he watched his man writhe on the ground with a mix of horror and rage. With nerves of steel, she watched him make his decision. A part of her wanted him to pull back, but the larger, blood-lust tainted side that was now awake, howled for violence.

"GET HER!"

* * *

Amy checked her watch again as she sprinted through the neon-lit Tokyo streets, cursing herself out under her ragged breath.

_You stupid idiot, Sei's gonna kill you! 2:50am? She's gonna skitz at me. She's gonna boil my liver and eat it with lima beans! How could I have lost so much time in a game? Ugh!_

Continuing to berate herself silently, Amy took a sharp turn left, skidding around the corner as she pounded down one of the darker, shortcut alleyways she normally took when she spent _way _too much time hanging out at _Golbat's Café. _Back before the Initiative had taken charge, she might have been a little hesitant about taking a shortcut down a dark lane, but most thugs never showed their faces outside of Shibuya, not unless they really wanted to annoy the cops.

She picked up the pace. Maybe if she made it home by three o'clock, Sei wouldn't notice, Sei wouldn't ground her as hard.

_Oh, keep up with the futile, wishful thinking, _she told herself. _Sei's probably waiting up for you, as we speak. _

No matter how busy Sei was with Bai-Lan business, she always had time to act like a pseudo-mother to Amy. No matter how little Amy appreciated it-

Amy's headlong run through the murky darkness slammed into something – or someone – that had no damn right to be as solid as they seemed to be. She staggered, her boots slipping in something wet and she fell with a strangled curse. Pain exploded in her skull as it bounced painfully against the cement, and she thought she saw something metallic gleam off the dim light shed by the comm. link on her wrist.

Groaning, Amy rubbed the back of her head, noting how her fingers were coming away sticky, how her hair was covered in something warm. Had she split the skin back there? She lifted her gaze from her fingers as she heard the scuff of old boots on concrete, watched as the owner limped towards her.

Amy craned her neck further up, to try to identify whoever she'd just knocked into. She couldn't make out any features in the shadows, even when she lifted her comm. link's light to try to get a better look. The woman – Amy was certain she was female, going by what she _could _make out – stopped next to her, leaning heavily on a sturdy, wooden cane.

The shadowy woman's lack of pain from the impact, and total lack of apology infuriated Amy – the woman just stared stoically _down_ at her. Amy was certain she was, even if she couldn't make out any eyes.

"What the hell is your problem?" Amy exploded, surging to her feet, her feet slipping on the wet ground. She ignored the inconvenient fact that _she_ had been the one to run into the woman. God, Sei was going to murder her once over for every second she was delayed-

The woman snorted softly, breaking Amy's internal rant.

"Of all the people to run into…" the woman muttered, her voice low, running a stained hand through dark hair. Amy tilted her head, trying to place the voice. It sounded a little familiar, but-

"What do you mean?" Amy prodded, dusting herself off, before raising the dim light to look at the woman's face. She went cold. "Wait, is that blo-"

"I care not for your late night activities in Tokyo, brat. Nor should you care for mine," the woman cut in harshly, and Amy backed away a few steps. It _was _blood.

_This is not good. This is not good –_ _and the wetness on the ground is blood. Of course. How did I not see…? _She took a shaky breath, forcing herself to meet the woman's eyes. She almost immediately regretted it as the woman smirked at her, teeth white against dark blood and black bangs.

"_Now _you understand. So, Amy of Bai-Lan, you will _listen _to me. You will not waste any more time, or you will end up like the gentlemen I just stuffed into the sewer." It was so cold, so dismissive, that Amy did not doubt the woman's ability to do just as threatened.

Amy drew another trembling breath, trying to steady her hands by burying them in the deep pockets of her jackets. She tried to act casual, she really did.

"What, exactly, is it you want me to do?"

"Focus. Between Meg, between Katsu, between Sei and yourself, you can stop RAPT before it's too late, before they make their move. Whatever it is they're planning… it's going to be huge. And she's the key."

Amy squeezed her eyes shut, her mind racing, making connections and associations at incredible speeds. She opened her eyes, exhaling sharply.

_Jo. Of course, it always comes back to Jo._

"I see. Then you're that source, the one that gave Meg those stills. The one that started all of this. You're _from _RAPT."

"Correct." The woman leaned heavily on her cane, grinning at Amy's deductions.

"Your questionable motivations aside, you expect me to believe you're here to help us? After all of these wild goose chases, all of these damn red herrings, you're just going to spell it out? After all that shit about 'protecting' yourself?" Amy's eyes hardened. "Sounds a little fishy, to me."

The woman laughed, a cold, harsh sound.

"I no longer _have _that luxury. _We're out of time._" Amy watched the woman turn her back, and begin to limp away from her. "So I'm going to just come out and say it. I'd visit one Takane Katsu, tomorrow. I hope, by then, she might have some information for you by then. The bodies near the docks… That should be your first port of call. And hurry."


End file.
